


Simple Parts

by FlyingFleshEater



Series: Simple Parts [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Bacon, Dick Jokes, F/F, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Tattoos, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingFleshEater/pseuds/FlyingFleshEater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That awkward moment when you travel thirty years forward in time and find out you're married to your high school nemesis? Yeah, it totally sucks...except...maybe it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake My Soul

_How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes,_   
_I struggle to find any truth in your lies,_   
_And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know,_   
_This weakness I feel I must finally show._

**QFRB**

A sense of foreboding had been with Quinn since she woke up that morning. She had laid in bed for ten minutes past her usual wake up buffer time and had seriously contemplated staying home from school. She just wanted to roll over in her sleep warm bed and bury her head under her pillow. She could tell her mom she felt nauseous and it wouldn’t exactly be a lie. She just felt like something bad was going to happen if she went to school that day. The bomb episode of Grey’s Anatomy kept pushing at the back of her brain. Meredith had felt like she was going to die that day.

_Is this what that feels like?_

She had gone to school anyway.

The day had dragged by and the feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t ease. Unable to focus on any of the lectures or activities in class, she knew she was going to be behind. She thought maybe the other Glee kids might have felt a little off too. Finn had looked constipated most of the day, Santana had been oddly subdued, and Rachel, constantly vigilant and irritatingly loud, had acted as if she had blinders on.

By the time Glee club came around, Quinn was feeling seriously nauseous and wanted nothing more than to crawl home and curl up into a little ball on her bed.

It wasn’t to be though.

They were rehearsing a number that they might use for sectionals. Quinn scoffed internally at the very idea. They were never ready for sectionals until the day before, and in the case of Nationals, they had practiced all night and into the morning the day of the competition, so the likelihood that anything they practiced so early in the year would go through was zero to negative ten.

All of them were in their places, Rachel and Finn in front because they (once again) had the lead, and the others staggered around somewhat strategically. Somehow, Quinn found herself on Rachel’s right, but she was entirely too consumed by the strange feeling rushing through her body to really be irritated about it.

It was the third time they were running through the choreography and everyone, even Brittany, was having trouble. Not because the steps were hard, but there was an undeniable tension in the air and it grew more suffocating with every passing moment.

Halfway into the song there was a moment where her partner (Mike today) was supposed to spin her out before pulling her back in. The cue came and Mike spun her away from his body. When their arms were fully extended his fingers tugged against hers. Both of their hands were sweaty, and he wasn’t holding her tightly, so her hand slid right out of his and her body continued on its trajectory. Right at the second that they lost contact, the air in the room changed and Quinn suddenly felt like her skin had been set on fire.

She had felt the exact thing once before. The previous year in Bio Lab she and her lab partner had been about to dissect their fetal pig. The boy she was working with, Rick Something, had been too much of a wuss to make the first cut so Quinn had to. The scalpel had sliced cleanly through the half-thawed flesh and she carefully separated the two flaps of skin to expose the cavity of the body. The chemicals used to preserve the animal had wafted out, almost like one of the waves of heat that hit her in the face when she opened one of the ovens in Home Ec.

The feeling was exactly like it was then. She couldn’t breathe, her skin was prickling all over and her hands and feet felt dead on the ends of her limbs. And she was spinning, physically as well as mentally. Her brain lost its ability to control her body. Her motion sent her wide and she collided harshly with Rachel, and in a tangle of limbs they fell harshly to the tile with the brunette underneath.

Through the haze of delirious pain she could see that she wasn’t the only one that tripped or felt the strange pain of fire spreading over their skin. They were stumbling around like drunks and Artie looked like he had passed out in his wheelchair. Quinn looked though cloudy eyes at the girl beneath her. Rachel’s face was creased with pain and vaguely the blonde guessed that she probably hit her head on the floor.  She didn’t have a chance to roll away and help the other girl sit up, because in that moment the burning pain increased a thousand fold and Quinn let out a pained shout. She heard a quiet whimper and some other shouts around her.

Her eyes are open, despite the pain, and looking down at Rachel when her sight cut out abruptly. Instead of blank blackness like the back of her eyelids, it was like she had been suddenly plunged into an endless white abyss. It was so bright that it burned so she snapped her eyes closed, but the white was still there.

The blindness lasted for all of five seconds and then it was rather suddenly gone, and the fire was gone and she could just feel a strange buzzy feeling all over her body, like a really weak needles-and-pins type feeling, and she found herself still very much on top of Rachel Berry in the choir room.

But it was different, because they were alone.

**QFRB**

Rachel Berry did not at all appreciate the way it felt to have Quinn Fabray, one of the most beautiful girls she’d ever had the (dis)pleasure of meeting, on top of her. No, she didn’t like it one bit. Not the way Quinn’s hips were nestled perfectly against hers, nor the way their legs had intertwined, nor the way that the blonde’s heavy breathing caused their chests to meet on every inhale. She didn’t appreciate it a bit.

What she did appreciate was the fact that she no longer felt like Santana had decided to make good on her threat to destroy her clothes by setting them on fire while she was still wearing them. It was nice to not have that searing pain taking over all her logical thought centers.

Above her, Quinn groaned quietly and shifted to the side so she was lying beside Rachel instead of over her. “Ow.”

“Yeah,” the brunette agreed, wincing as she tried to sit up.

“Are you ok?” Quinn asked when she noticed Rachel’s difficulty. She was too tired and sore to worry about the way she had sounded genuinely worried about the diva’s wellbeing.

“My head,” Rachel whispered, gripping the back of said area with both hands. “I think I might be concussed.”

“Just don’t pass out or anything,” Quinn ordered. She watched a lot of TV when she was pregnant and one of the things she knew about concussions was that if Rachel had one and fell asleep she could die. And sure, Quinn found the diva annoying most of the time, and she used to torture her with a fervor she could only describe as religious, but she didn’t want the girl to die or anything.

“I wonder where everyone went,” Rachel said, squinting one eye open to peer around the empty room. “Why would they just leave? Did we pass out? But if we fainted then surely someone would have called for an ambulance. Did you feel that weird burning?”

Quinn wanted to snap at her, she really, honestly wanted to. She didn’t though, because they were incredibly valid questions. Where the hell was everybody? “Yes, I felt the burning,” was all she said. It was the only answer she really had. But looking around the room Quinn started to notice some differences.

There were a lot more chairs and they were lined up in neat even rows on the risers. The shelves behind the piano were crammed full of books of sheet music. One shelf was dedicated to black binders with names written down the spines. The names themselves weren’t strange so much as unfamiliar. The piano had been moved and the drum kit was different.

“The room’s different,” Quinn pointed out to her companion.

Rachel whipped her head around in an almost frantic way, taking in the details of the room. After a minute she stood on wobbly legs. Quinn followed her, though she was much more stable.

“Is this some sort of elaborate prank?” Rachel wondered out loud as she made her way to the piano. She trailed her fingers along the keys.

“If it is, I’m thoroughly impressed,” Quinn replied. She was looking at the books of sheet music more carefully now. She came across the binders and drummed her fingers along the top of a couple of them. “While I wouldn’t put it past the rest of the club to do something crazy to us while we’re passed out, you would think Mr. Shue would’ve put a stop to it.” She made a decision and pulled the first one, the spine said Abel, out of the shelf.

“Indeed, allow me to be frank, they would be more likely to take you with them and leave me to either die or be confused on my own.”

Quinn looked up from what had turned out to be more sheet music, thoroughly annotated and marked with post its and little gold star stickers. She gave Rachel, still by the piano and not looking at her, a once over. “That was morbid, bitter and overly dramatic all in one sentence. Congratulations, you’ve out done yourself.”

“No one likes me. Except Finn, and sometimes even he gets tired of me.”

Quinn frowned. “Well no one hates you anymore. Even Santana doesn’t want to kill you all the time. And that dopey looking freshman pretty much wants to give you her first born. So that’s…progress right?”

Rachel sighed heavily, pressed down on a few notes and then turned away from the piano. “I guess. What are you looking at?”

“It’s just a bunch of sheet music,” Quinn replied. She had pulled another binder out during their conversation. “Some of it’s the same and some is different. It’s all been annotated though. And I don’t recognize some of these songs.” She shrugged and put the binder back.

“This is just weird.”

Quinn was inclined to agree, but she did so only mentally. Telling Rachel Berry that she was right would only lead to misfortune.

Before they could speculate further, a tall boy opened the door to the room and stepped inside. He wasn’t tall in the way Finn Hudson was, definitely not a large block of teen muscle. No, he was gangly and rather obviously had not grown into his long limbs and large hands. His face was boyish and tan and he had a few pimples on his forehead and a nose that was just on the side of too big for his face. His eyes were dark and expressive, with unnaturally thick lashes for a boy. His brown hair was almost too light for his complexion and it was reaching that stage of growth where it basically screamed “PLEASE CUT ME!” at everyone within a five mile radius.

He saw them standing there and stumbled to a stop, nearly tripping over his large feet. “Hi,” he said in a voice that sounded on the verge of cracking. Rachel guessed that he was around fourteen and probably a freshman. She had never seen him before, but she was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

“Hi,” Rachel and Quinn parroted in unison. They glanced at each other and then looked back at the boy. He shifted on his feet.

“I’m Alex,” he told them by way of explanation, as if his name would somehow inform them of his purpose in life. When he got blank stares in return he expounded. “My mom is the choir director.” He didn’t miss the confused look they shot each other, he just didn’t question it. Let them have their oddities, he reasoned. “I’m just here to pick up some sheet music she left in her office. The club is practicing in the auditorium today. You _are_ in Glee Club, right?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied quickly, before Rachel could say anything incriminating. She didn’t know what was going on exactly, but she was definitely quick enough to realize she had never seen this kid before, he was young and way too sincere to be in on a prank. “We’re new.”

“Thought so,” Alex replied, flipping a lock of curly hair out of eyes. “I was pretty sure I’d never seen you before.”

“Did you say the choir director was a woman?” Rachel asked suddenly, Quinn’s head snapped around to face her, her wide eyes shining with golden anger. The brunette ignored the look with some difficulty. This just wasn’t making sense to her. She too could feel the boy’s sincerity. He wasn’t acting, so she had to wonder what was going on.

Alex quirked an expressive eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, Rachel Berry, I thought everyone knew that. She’s like…one of the main draws to this shitty town. You guys are like…really new. Have you been living under rocks or something?” He shook his head and chuckled derisively when they didn’t answer right away. He held up a key on a gold star keychain. “I’ll be right back and then I’ll show you to the auditorium.” With that he left them and entered the office, closing the door behind him. Through the windows, Rachel and Quinn could see him perusing the selection of sheet music that was stored in the three filing cabinets in the small office. Or, they would have seen him if they weren’t both staring intently at the place the boy had just been standing.

 _That was Rachel Berry’s son,_ was the only coherent thought that Quinn could drum up, but not for the lack of trying.

Rachel’s mind was blank, and not pleasantly.

“We’re in the future.” It was stated as a fact, because though Quinn was stunned, the reality around her wasn’t up for debate in her mind.

Rachel was less convinced. “That’s simply absurd, Quinn. Time travel is impossible. The technology is nonexistent and even if it did exist, there are far too many problems associated with the idea to make it a viable practice.”

“Clearly,” Quinn mocked with the same superior tone, “you’re wrong. It is possible because we’re living it.”

“You can’t possibly be telling me that you believe in time travel. Do you believe in Bigfoot too? There has to be some other explanation.”

An angry flush settled over Quinn’s delicate cheeks because, yes, she did believe in Bigfoot and sometimes in unicorns as well. “Oh, Really? Well what do _you_ think happened then?” The blonde asked, pushing as much contempt into her question as possible.

“Well obviously I have suffered a grievous brain injury.” Rachel’s lofty tone did nothing to quell the blinding irritation that the blonde could feel swirling sickly though her belly.

“How am I here then?” Quinn demanded with a sneer, her ire spurring her on.

“You are a figment of my damaged subconscious. I’m clearly in a coma or something of the sort.” Rachel looked entirely serious and rather unconcerned by her own explanation.

Quinn scowled, completely unsettled with being compared to a figment of someone’s imagination, damaged or otherwise. Let alone someone like Rachel Berry. She reached over to the diva and gave her arm a vicious pinch.

The look of complete shock and pain that took over the diva’s face was almost enough for Quinn to start laughing, but it wasn’t quite enough to shove past her indignation over Rachel’s grasp of the situation. “If you were in a coma you wouldn’t feel pain. It’s just like in dreams,” she rebutted. Admittedly, she had pulled that right out of her ass. There’s no way she would know that without having actually been in a coma but she hoped that Rachel wouldn’t see past her falsehood. “That kid said he was the choir director’s son. He said the director’s name was Rachel Berry. I don’t know many Rachel Berrys. And unless you and Finn somehow managed to manifest a kid out of dryer lint and your _deep and unending love_ , we’re in the future.”

“How?”

 _“Like I would know?”_ the blonde hissed in return.

“There’s no need to take this out on me,” Rachel informed her with a haughty look.

Quinn snarled and somehow controlled the urge to strangle Rachel violently. Her nails cut into her palms with the force of her saint-like restraint.

Thankfully, Rachel’s future spawn, Alex, came out of the office with a stack of papers under his arms, further reminding the blonde that Rachel has to be alive to produce said progeny. And Quinn Fabray is anything but a baby killer.

“Alright, come on. I’ll take you to the auditorium now.” They both hesitated briefly to follow him, but Quinn gave in first, allowing him to hold the door to the choir room open for her. “You coming?” He asked when she was just exiting the room. The blonde turned to see that Rachel was standing just where she left her.

As much as Quinn’s idea made sense to her, Rachel just couldn’t accept that this boy would someday be her son. It was nothing against him, personally. In fact, he seemed like a nice boy. It was the fact that he was in _Lima_ , the fact that she was in Lima that she couldn’t accept. She absolutely refused to accept it.

“I…” she started. He was looking at her with a sort of befuddled expression and she could see that he obviously had her eyes. They’re the same shape and everything. She knew because she saw them in the mirror every day. It was like he took them right out of her head. She suddenly wanted to cry because she could see that, yes, he was her son, or he would be, and he’s so beautiful and handsome and she just knew that someday he would be hers. She could feel it deep in the pit of her being. It hurt.

She shook herself firmly. She was in the future. She was about to meet her future…self. The older her would know what to do. She would have to. She contained the feelings that threatened to rip through her grasp. She knew if she thought about the situation too deeply she would cry.

Rachel nodded. “Of course, I apologize.”

Alex shrugged and arched an eyebrow. “Ain’t no thing.” He grinned and Rachel was immediately charmed.

**QFRB**

The silence between the three of them was thick. It wasn’t Alex’s doing. In fact, he was perfectly comfortable. The tension between the two girls was the source.

They were halfway to the auditorium by the time Quinn decided to end the silence. “So are you in the Glee club?”

Alex jumped in surprise at being spoken to. “Uh, no. I’m in middle school. I don’t belong to any clubs though so I come by here after school to hang out. It’s better than being in an empty house for hours, ya know?”

He was walking in front of them, and not looking, but Quinn nodded anyway.

“Will you join when you get to high school?” Rachel piped up finally.

Alex shrugged. “Maybe, the whole singing and dancing on stage thing isn’t really my scene. I mean, it’s fun and all, but I’ve got talents in other areas,” he paused and took a minute to think, his head tilting up slightly. “I might do it for fun. I’ve been dancing ballroom since I was like…five or something, so the dancing part would be nice; I’m just not the best singer.”

Quinn cast a glance to the girl walking beside her and tried to gauge her reaction, but Rachel’s poker face was in full effect. The blonde noted mentally that she could probably pick up some tips from her next time Puck tried to wrangle her into a game of strip poker.

The doors of the auditorium were closed but the sound of music could be heard through them. Alex propped one of the doors open for them and allowed them through first.

“I can’t interrupt while they’re in the middle of a number, so we’ll just wait behind the table,” he told them helpfully.

Alex led the way down the aisle toward where the director’s table was. Only one person sat at it. The girls assumed it was the older Rachel Berry. Her silhouette was barely visible. The auditorium was dark but the stage was lit and nearly thirty people were on it in a formation with two, a girl and boy, in the front as the apparent leads. They weren’t in costume and Quinn counted six girls and two boys in Cheerios uniforms, including the female lead for the number that was being practiced.

Both girls noted absently that they didn’t recognize the song. This was a bigger deal to Rachel than to Quinn.

The kids on stage weren’t singing, they were just acting out the choreography and both Quinn and Rachel were struck with the similarity this instance held with the time Rachel had found out who her mother was.

The routine went uninterrupted for approximately forty-five seconds after their arrival and Quinn had to admit that it was pretty good. Rachel was not as charitable and that apparently didn’t change with age.

“Fabray! Your turns are sloppy, fix it yourself before I come at you with a screwdriver,” the older version of Rachel, that Quinn had already dubbed Older Rachel because she was a very creative girl, barked into her mike.

Quinn jumped in surprise at hearing her own surname and began to look over every face on stage to find one that resembled hers even a little bit. She didn’t really have to look though because the girl that had been singled out replied with a “Yes, Coach!” and Quinn realized that the lead was also a Fabray. She was too far away to make out many of the girl’s features, but she could see that she had light brown hair.

She was a little confused about how this girl was named Fabray. She didn’t have any brothers and no cousins in Lima. There were only two options that she could see. Either this girl was her younger sister, bred through her bastard father (she gagged a little at the thought), or Quinn had once again gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Her thoughts were interrupted by Older Rachel’s continued critique.

“And Puckerman, if I see you grope her one more time I’m going to replace you, understood?”

The boy that been dancing lead with her possible sister/daughter ducked his head almost bashfully. “Yes, Coach!”

Older Rachel sighed. “Take a ten minute water break, then I expect you all to run through the number at least five more times before practice is over. And we only have thirty minutes left, so no mistakes.”

The excited chatter of the students reached a crescendo before slowly dying down to a dull roar when most of them had exited stage left to get their water and chat on.

Rachel and Quinn stood where they were while Alex approached his mother.

“Hey Mom, you’ve got two new kids,” he said, alerting her to his presence once the stage had cleared fully. The sounds of raucous laughter drifted over the otherwise quiet auditorium from back stage. He put the sheet music he had been sent to collect next to her.

“I was wondering what took you so long,” was the reply.

Older Rachel turned to look at them. Her eyes met Quinn’s first and the shock registered before they flicked to take in her younger self. The second that their eyes met, Older Rachel’s knees buckled and she fell sideways against the director’s table.

Alex caught her on instinct and his cracky voice was full of worry when he asked if she was ok. She didn’t answer; her wide blank eyes were focused and unblinking on Young Rachel.

For her part, Young Rachel looked like she was about to pass out. She swayed dangerously on her feet and Quinn wrapped a hand around her arm to keep her upright, but it hardly helped. Her knees buckled too and so Quinn had to hold her up. The young blonde, a bit out of practice when it came to catching girls, nearly dropped her but managed to ease her down to the ground carefully instead of letting her just fall on her ass. The blonde made sure she hadn’t passed out before turning her attention back to the stricken older version of her companion.

Incapable of deep thought at the time, Quinn had only one observation about this different Rachel, who, aside from definitely being older, didn’t look much different from the girl Quinn was holding up.

Someone had finally taught the woman how to dress.

**QFRB**

  
_In these bodies we will live,  
in these bodies we will die_ __  
Where you invest your love,  
you invest your life.  



	2. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Quinn make their way downtown, walking fast, faces pass, and they're home bound...

_I’m in trouble, I’m an addict,_  
 I’m addicted to this girl.  
 She’s got my heart tied in a knot  
 and my stomach in a whirl.  
 And even worse I can’t stop callin her,  
 she’s all I want and more.  
 I mean damn, what’s not to adore?

**QFRB**

After what felt like forever but was actually only thirty very tense seconds, the older Rachel regained control of her legs and pulled herself from her son’s arms, breaking eye contact with her younger self for the first time. She took a shaky breath.

“Mom?” Alex asked, rubbing her back gently with one of his big hands.

“Would you go get some water, Puppy?” she asked once her breathing had calmed.

“Yes ma’m.” The boy ran off towards the stage with no further instruction.

Both girls took the time he was gone as an opportunity to openly observe this older Rachel. She seemed taller, somehow, though they could both see that she hadn’t grown any more after high school. They both guessed that she was at least forty and probably a little older, but she looked good. There were no signs that she had had any cosmetic work done and the only real change in her appearance was that she had lost the roundness of youth.

 _She probably dyes her hair._ Quinn ruminated with a thoughtful tilt of her head. She didn’t feel hypocritical at all.

Rachel was beyond pleased with what she was seeing. _I look so professional and…and sleek. I knew that my rigorous diet and all those hours on the elliptical would pay off in the long run, but to see it so clearly is definitely heartening. I’m glad I never allow myself to slip in my schedule._

Alex arrived back just as quickly as he left with a bottle of water he had fetched from backstage. “Are you ok, Mom?”

 “I’m gonna be fine. I just had a rather intense flashback.”

Alex tilted his head to one side and both younger girls immediately understood the nickname Puppy. “Huh?”

“Nothing, I’ll explain later.”

The buzzing of a phone interrupted any further conversation. Older Rachel snapped up the phone lying on the table and checked the display. “Kurt,” she answered breathlessly but she didn’t have time to say anything more before the man on the other line started speaking. “Oh, thank goodness, he’s alright?” More chatter from the other side occurred. “No, I haven’t heard from anyone else yet. I have Rachel and Quinn,” she paused, “yes, we were together, I think it’s because we were touching when the shift happened.” The man on the other line spoke some more. “Ok, you get in touch with Mercedes and Finn. I’ll get Santana and Brittany…well of course I’ll call Quinn.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, tell them to spread it to the others. Ok, bye.”

She ended the call but scrolled over her screen in search of a number. She didn’t look up at either of the girls or her son.

Rachel and Quinn had listened to the call with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was apparent now that they weren’t the only ones that had been dragged into the future. On the other, it was clear that this older Rachel knew what was happening and she had yet to try and explain anything to them. Quinn was, in fact about to point this out, but Alex got his mouth open first.

He looked warily between his mother and the two girls he’d led to her before speaking. “Mom, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in a minute, baby boy. I have some phone calls to make first.” As she said this she brought the phone to her ear. “Hi, Donny, is Quinn in?...I see, is she expected back?...No, no message. Thank you.” She ended the call and chose another number. The other end was apparently ringing for a long time. “Quinn, call me back, it’s important,” she said eventually, apparently leaving a message before she hung up again.

She dialed another number. “Santana, don’t hang up! I have some really important- oh, oh ok good. Yes, that’s what I…I see. Very well. You should find Brittany before Brittany does. Cheerios practice starts in half an hour so she’s probably in her office. That means Brittany could be wandering around the school. Do you want me to send Alex to- no that’s fine. Ok, bye.”

Another number was dialed.

“Damn it Quinn!” Rachel snapped at her phone before tossing it back on the table. Quinn jumped but then realized that Older Rachel hadn’t been speaking to her. The brunette ran a hand through her hair and huffed, her mouth taking on a familiar pout. She turned to look at the three teens that were watching her every move with wide eyes. “Ok, we’ve got two minutes before my kids get back on stage, assuming I’ve raised them right, and I know I have. What do you know so far?”

“We’re in the future,” Quinn supplied immediately.

Older Rachel nodded. “November 20th, 2040 to be exact.”

“Wow.”

“And you’re…me and he’s…” Young Rachel cut in with some confused gesturing between herself, Alex and the older version of her.

“I’m Rachel Berry, you’re Rachel Berry, someday you’ll be me and Alex is my son. Yes.” She nodded distractedly and rounded on Alex. “You are going to keep this to yourself. Do not tell any of your friends or siblings until I have this all worked out.”

Alex nodded hesitantly. His face was a portrait of pure confusion.

“Ok, there’s no real time to explain it all in full detail. Just know that until I saw you I had no idea that this was going to happen and then I looked at you and it all came flooding back. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“Was it depressing?” Young Rachel asked, looking around the auditorium.

“No, it was incredibly marvelous actually. Most of it, anyway.”

“I can’t wait.” The hungry look in Rachel’s eyes was something that Quinn had gotten used to. It meant she was thinking about her future, a future that she was a hundred percent certain would turn out for her. Even as she stood here in the crappy (well, less crappy than it used to be actually) William McKinley High auditorium right in front of what would be her in some thirty or so years, she was completely confident in her ability to make it big.

Quinn hated it.

The quiet sounds of talking that had been a backdrop for their conversation grew louder as the glee club drifted up from backstage and took their marks right on time. Older Rachel directed Quinn and Younger Rachel to the row behind her.

“Alright everyone, from the top.”

**QFRB**

The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity to both girls. They sat behind Older Rachel and Alex, and watched the practice in an intense awkward silence. Alex sat at the director’s table with Older Rachel, playing games on his phone most of the time. He would occasionally glance back at them but then look away quickly. He practically vibrated with curiosity.

Rachel couldn’t help but to automatically critique the performance and every time she had a thought Older Rachel would verbalize it to the dancers. It was a little freaky how similar their thoughts were, but it also made a little sense. They were basically the same person.

“Well,” she said finally, drawing all attention to her, “I guess it doesn’t get better than that today. We still need a lot of practice but you all did very well this afternoon. Remember, Showcase is in three weeks and Sectionals are in five! Now go away and don’t come back until Monday.”

This order was met with cheers and whistles and a “You’re the best, Coach” from an older boy. The stampede of teenagers exiting the stage was almost enough to drown out various calls for their coach to “have a good Thanksgiving.”

“Fabray,” Older Rachel called out over the mike, “stay behind. I’ll write you a note.”

The girl nodded, spoke to the other cheerleaders briefly, then turned and approached her Coach. Quinn was watching her like a hawk (as she had been since the practice started back up), and Rachel was similarly interested in the girl. She was of average height, probably around the same as Quinn. Her plain brown hair was up in the tight ponytail required for Cheerios and she had dark brown eyes. She actually looked very much like Quinn. Some of her features were a little different, but the overall affect made her look like she could be Quinn’s slightly darker twin.

It was when Quinn looked into the girl’s eyes that she noticed she was getting a similar once over. When she got caught looking the girl looked at Alex instead.

 “Hey Puppy,” she greeted the boy with a grin.

Alex scowled. “Don’t call me that,” he demanded, his eyes hardening.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Whatever, did you need something Coach?”

“I need to know if you’re free Friday or Saturday to work on your piece for the recital. I need to book the studio this afternoon.”

“Oh uh,” her eyes slid back to Quinn.

“Focus Fabray,” Older Rachel directed, tapping the table to draw the girl’s eyes back, “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it at home.”

“Sorry Coach, I can do either.”

“Alright, let’s shoot for Saturday around ten. I already talked to Coach Pierce about it.”

Alice nodded and waited while Older Rachel wrote her a note, her eyes occasionally straying to Young Rachel and Quinn. Older Rachel waited until the doors to the auditorium were completely closed before she would even acknowledge the questions in the time travelers’ eyes.

She sent Alex to hit the lights and finally, after what had probably been an entire hour that they were in the future, someone was about to tell them what was going on.

“I don’t remember everything yet, but it’s coming back to me in pieces.”

“The others are here too though? Isn’t that what the phone calls were about?” Young Rachel asked, she leaned forward in her seat. Quinn frowned. She was probably just eager to find out where her boyfriend was.

“Yes, I have no idea how or why though. I’m sure Mike or Quinn would have some theories.”

“Are we close or something, like friends? You’ve been mentioning me a lot and that girl, you called her Fabray, and she looked comfortable with you.” Quinn didn’t mean for it to come off accusatory, but she was confused and sore and not at all liking the way that this poised Older Rachel was doing something funny to her belly.

“Alice,” Older Rachel supplied. “She’s your daughter.” The tenderness in those big brown eyes made Quinn want to cry a little bit. She wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes.

“Is she…Am I not married or something?” she asked, forgetting that her first question hadn’t been answered.

“No, you are but…you know, I’m probably not the one that should be telling you this.”

“Mom?” Alex piped up suddenly, “all this stuff you’re saying…I mean, she’s really you?” he pointed to Young Rachel.

“Yep,” she replied, ruffling his hair. “I’m sure that’s weird for you.”

Alex actually kind of whimpered at the affirmation. He gripped his hair in both hands and shot frantic looks between the two Rachels. “God that’s so creepy!” his voice screeched at the end. “I totally thought you were hot!” he informed his mother in complete anguish.

There was nothing on earth that could’ve stopped Quinn’s stunned guffaw or the subsequent peals of laughter that had her bending at the waist from their force. Her forehead hit her knees and she decided to just stay bent like that until she could breathe normally again.

“My poor baby,” Older Rachel managed, hiding her smile behind a hand.

Young Rachel was just embarrassed, for herself and for Alex.

When Quinn sat up there were tears in her eyes. She took one look at the boy and had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter again.

“I’m going to go bleach my brain now, thanks,” Alex informed them, looking every bit like his mother as he stormed out of the auditorium. The women watched him go, all three of them giving him marks out of ten for effort.

“Wow,” Quinn choked out through a laugh, “he’s definitely your kid, Berry.” She sat forward in the faux-velvet lined chair and leveled Older Rachel with a smirk that bordered on superior. “So, you’re a show choir director. The irony is almost too much.”

Young Rachel’s cheeks burned with hot anger at this sudden turnaround in attitude. She opened her mouth to retort with something biting but the older her got there first.

“Oh, _Little_ Quinn, you don’t want to go there with me. I don’t know why you’re trying to hurt me, especially when my only goal right now is to make sure you stay alive until you get back to the past.”

This time Quinn flushed and she looked down. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

Older Rachel sighed. “I know, and we need to get that discussion out of the way now anyway.”

“What discussion?” Young Rachel asked.

“I can feel the curiosity pouring off of you. I know you’ve been wondering why we’re in Lima.”

“I did…give it thought.”

“It’s a long story full of sighs, but I’m going to keep it short.” She ignored Quinn’s unladylike snort. “The details won’t really matter and you’re going to forget all of this when you go back anyway. Four years ago Daddy had a heart attack,” she paused for the expected reaction. Young Rachel’s gasp, her hands flying to cover her mouth, the tears that filled her eyes, she had expected it. She remembered how it felt. “It was his second and he didn’t make it.” She had the air of someone that had relayed bad news so much that it didn’t mean anything to her anymore. It was just a fact. “Dad was…”she trailed off with a shake of her head. “For about a month afterwards I was unbearably tense. The play I was in at the time ended its run and my agent had a few things lined up but nothing I was really desperate to do. It was about that time that I got a call from Mr. Shue. He was just calling to tell me he was retiring. I sat down with my wife and I discussed—“ she was cut off abruptly by the blonde who had been listening passively until that moment.

“Oh my God! You’re gay?” The look on Quinn’s face wasn’t disgust, the Rachels were both extremely adapt at recognizing Quinn Fabray’s disgusted expression, no, it was complete and utter shock. She was flummoxed and the look on her face was akin to someone that had just been slapped with a wet sock. She was also halfway out of her seat and leaning away from Young Rachel at an unstable angle.

Young Rachel pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sexuality is fluid, Quinn. While I confess to having an affinity for men, I have never ruled out the possibility of a relationship with a woman, were the right one to come along, as is obviously the case,” she lectured with her nose firmly in the air. When she cut a glance at the blonde and saw that she hadn’t moved in any significant way her lips pressed into a thin line. “You can sit down now; I’m not going to jump you. You are so not my type.”

Quinn squeaked in offence and plopped back into her seat. “I am everyone’s type.”

“Well you aren’t mine. I’m sorry if I don’t have a predilection towards frigid bitches.”

“Okay,” Alex broke in suddenly, clapping and standing up. “This is getting intense. Can we go home yet?”

All the women jumped at his sudden appearance. “Not yet, Pups,” his mother answered when she found air again. “Anyway, we decided to move here to be closer to Dad and I was feeling like taking a break from Broadway anyway. I got the job as choir director. I also teach the theater classes.”

Young Rachel still had tears in her eyes but she didn’t feel like her life was ending. It wasn’t real to her yet, and it wouldn’t be, she rationalized, for some twenty years. She had many years left to spend with both of her fathers.

“I’m hungry, can we go home now?” Alex asked again.

“Yes, yes, we can go.” Older Rachel checked her phone. “And since I haven’t heard from Quinn I’m just going to take you home with me,” she told the young blond.

**QFRB**

Older Rachel led them out to the staff parking lot, after she locked up the auditorium, with Alex practically skipping in excitement beside her. “This is so cool! I mean, once I got passed the whole thinking you were hot thing,” he directed to the younger version of him mother, “I realized how awesome this is gonna be. I mean,” he turned to his mother, “you used to be human!”

“Hey!” Older Rachel reached up and yanked one of his ears. He bounced away laughing and rubbing the offended area. He ran from them and jumped into the air, tapping his heels together and then landing neatly. He stopped in front of a shiny black SUV type car that gave the time travelers pause. It was the only car left in the lot so it obviously belonged to Rachel, but it was just so…futuristic that it caught them off guard.

“Unlock it Mom,” Alex whined. “Let’s go, I wanna hear what Momma’s going to say.”

“Open,” Older Rachel enunciated. She grinned when the younger versions of herself and Quinn both jerked with surprise when the doors swung upward smoothly. “It’s fully voice automated. The only thing I have to do is steer and break.” When they both just continued to stand and stare at the vehicle, she gently shepherded them along with a chuckle.

They clambered into the back seats, Quinn behind Older Rachel and Rachel behind Alex.

“What’s in the player?” the boy asked as soon as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Can we listen to Mo’s Scan?”

“I’m not sure, and no. That’s way too much for our guests to handle right now,” his mother replied without looking at the girls in question.

Alex saw their vaguely confused faces (Rachel was more open about her feelings than Quinn was) and wholesale turned around in his seat to address them. “My big brother, Mo, he’s an actor…or he’s trying to be an actor anyway, but he does stand up on the side and he sent me a Scan for my birthday. It’s really funny.”

“It’s really inappropriate for thirteen year old boys. Here I am, trying to raise you to respect women and not treat them as sex objects, and he’s talking about how _bitches need to learn to swallow cause people are dying in Africa_.” Older Rachel ranted indignantly.

Alex snorted with laughter but cut himself off abruptly when his mother glared at him. “Oh come on Mom, he does satire. Besides, it’s true…well, not the part about swallowing, and I don’t really fully get that one anyway. Everybody tells me to Google image it but Alice told me not to if I don’t want to be scared for life.” He paused. “So I guess that means she did it, huh?”

Older Rachel couldn’t help the snort that burst out of her, especially with the look on her younger counterpart’s and Quinn’s faces. Quinn looked so overwhelmed by everything that had been said since she climbed into the back seat of the SUV that Older Rachel wasn’t sure she’d ever recover. She turned back to her son.

“You don’t need to worry about what Alice has been doing. Turn your ass around Puppy. I’m not moving this car until you’re buckled up.”

Alex turned around with a grumble and made quite a show of pulling his seat belt around him.

“And anyway,” Older Rachel continued once he had obeyed her orders, “they’re probably wondering what a Scan is, not who Mo is. We didn’t have Scans when I was young Puppy.”

“I always forget that you’re super old Mom,” Alex replied with a charming grin. Older Rachel smacked him over the head. “Ow,” he cried and then cackled, “abuse! Abuse! Someone call CPS!”

Quinn watched all of this interaction with a little fuzz in her brain. She was so beyond confused and conflicted that she couldn’t really help but stare blankly at everything around her. She wondered if she might be going into shock. It wouldn’t be surprising really. She had seen her daughter. The daughter she would have someday. The daughter she would keep.

Her chest was tight with emotions she couldn’t name even if she routinely allowed herself to feel them. Years of emotional stunting had taken away even her ability to categorize the way she was feeling as good or bad. All she knew was Alice.

 _Alice_.

She was beautiful. A cheerleader too, but without the cocky bitch attitude that Quinn herself had carried around. She had seemed to be very aware of who she was, and she was apparently close to both this Older Rachel and Brittany. She was also a little stunned at how mellow Rachel would apparently become. Of course, she was still an insane perfectionist with a tendency toward the dramatic if the routine they had seen earlier was any indication, but she was actually funny and kind of likable. And she swore too which was literally mind blowing for Quinn and apparently traumatic for Rachel if the look on her face was anything to go by.

Getting anywhere in Lima usually took all of fifteen minutes, and that seemed to still be the case. The car ride had been void of conversation but not uncomfortable. Radio was apparently still a thing so Older Rachel put on an “oldies” channel which turned out to be music from the 90s to 2020ish. Alex complained a little but then ended up singing along to all of the songs under his breath.

Before long they pulled into a double driveway alongside an older looking red car, at least older than the one they were currently in. The house attached to the driveway was large but not ostentatious. There was nothing entirely remarkable about it. It was brown brick and had a shallow front porch. There was a nice sized balcony on the second floor over the front porch.

“How big is this house?” Quinn asked, peering around Older Rachel and Alex.

“Seven bedrooms, four and half bath, there’s an office, and a mudroom separate from the laundry room. There’s a garage in the back but we use it for storage.”

“Wow, Berry, you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Come on then, might as well get this over with.”

They were herded out of the car and they followed Alex and his mother onto the porch.

Older Rachel stopped at the front door and turned to face the three teenagers behind her with serious eyes. “Before we go in I’d like to talk to you about what’s going to happen. I want you both to recognize that my wife and I are incredibly in love. She’s the light of my life and I’d be lost without her. We’re an exceedingly affectionate couple. We’re almost always touching in some way, and while I don’t want either of you to feel uncomfortable at any time, I also refuse to stop being affectionate with my wife.”

“So…” Quinn started, quirking her expressive eyebrow, “you’re saying we just have to get over it?”

“Essentially,” Older Rachel agreed. “She might curtail the affection a little to make you more comfortable, but I won’t unless she asks me to.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about me,” the younger diva insisted. “I’m actually quite looking forward to meeting the woman that will someday hold our heart and I won’t be at all uncomfortable with your displays of affection. This might sound odd, but it will give me something to look forward to.”

“It makes perfect sense and it isn’t at all odd. That might just be because I can remember feeling that way. Just trust me,” Older Rachel said, laying a hand on Young Rachel’s shoulder, “you’re going to be uncomfortable, I remember that too. “ She glanced quickly at Quinn and then away but her younger counterpart saw the action.

The younger brunette’s brow furrowed in confusion. It hit her harder than Finn had when he’d accidently broken her nose the year before, and just like that time she felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. A sort of horrified realization filled her.

“Oh no!” she looked into identical brown eyes, horror shining plainly in her own. “Please, please, _please_ tell me it’s not…oh God!”

“What?” Quinn demanded, looking between the Rachels. She didn’t like feeling left out.

“Nothing,” Older Rachel was quick to assure her. She turned on her younger self and hissed into her ear. “I need you to stay calm, please. We’ll discuss this later. There’s nothing you can do about it right now except accept that some things have changed.”

Young Rachel nodded stiffly, her jaw clenched tight. Her stomach was rebelling and she felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of her lungs. She didn’t want to accept it, but what else could she do? There was nowhere to run. She didn’t know how to survive in this strange future.

“Ok, stand right here,” Older Rachel directed, pulling them gently in from the foyer after she led them in, and directed them toward the staircase. She put them at an angle where they would be able to see who was coming down the stairs but where the two of them would not be visible until actually looked for. “And for the love of God, just be quiet,” she directed this last statement more towards her younger self than to Quinn. The blonde couldn’t help the small smirk that got through at the sight of the young diva’s pouty frown.

Despite her seeming unhappiness with the order, Rachel nodded her agreement to her older counterpart’s instructions and Quinn mimicked the action.

Alex grinned toothily at his mother when she turned to him. “This is gonna be great,” he whispered with an excited bounce, glancing between the three of them with glee.

Older Rachel frowned at him. “You can be quiet too, young man.”

Alex wiped the smile off his face quickly and nodded. He broke into a beaming grin again when his mother turned away.

The two other teens watched as Older Rachel shook herself and took a few deep breaths before closing the door with just enough force so that it made noise. She turned with a bright and genuine smile and bounced happily over to the foot of the stairs.

“Lucy, I’m home!” Older Rachel sing-songed loudly in a mockery of Ricky Ricardo, an expectant look on her face.

“If you don’t stop calling me that I’m going to divorce you!” a voice from upstairs floated down, full of false cheer.

Older Rachel’s expectancy turned into a bright smile before she scoffed playfully. “Oh please, you’ve been saying that for twenty-five years now.”

The woman’s voice was closer now. “And every time it happens I get a little more serious.”

Rachel and Quinn could both tell the second Older Rachel saw her wife. A change swept over her visage and it was so startlingly warm, so raw and emotional, that Quinn suddenly felt uncomfortable. A different kind of uncomfortable than what she was feeling about this whole situation. She felt like voyeur. There was a wellspring of jealousy licking up from her belly too. She wondered if she ended up this happy, or if this fairy tale was only for people like Rachel Berry.

Rachel just felt a sudden swell of longing fill her up. Even through her horror at the knowledge that it was almost certainly Quinn Fabray that her older self was looking up at, she just wanted that feeling that was so clear on the older woman’s face.

“I’m going to cuddle the shit out of you.”

“And you’ve been saying _that_ for twenty-five years,” came the laughing reply. The world seemed to slide into slow motion for the two girls in the hallway. A bare pair of feet became visible through the railing and then legs clad in baggy navy track pants. Then a hand on the railing, a diamond glinting on a manicured finger, slid into view. She was wearing a sweatshirt that looked like it used to also be navy but was so well worn that it had turned into a weird blue-gray color.

“Honey, I’ve got some news,” Rachel told her wife in an exaggeratedly gentle voice. The woman on the stairs stopped descending.

“How much did you spend?” her posture didn’t change but her tone was stern. Older Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Nothing, we just have some unplanned guests for the next few days.”

“Oh, is that all?” the woman continued the last of her decent. A mop of short, wildly messy blonde hair and a delicate facial profile completed the picture of Wife of Rachel Berry. She bounced on the last step and then threw her arms around the shorter woman’s neck, immediately moving in for a kiss.

The younger blonde, standing off to the side, felt her knees lock just as awareness stole over her. She was looking at her own profile. She was looking at an older Lucy Quinn Fabray, and everything that had happened over the past few hours suddenly made sense.

Older Rachel didn’t exactly dodge the affection so much as redirect it.

“Something wrong?” Older Quinn asked, tilting her head.

“No, I just don’t want to get caught in your little trap when you have guests to greet,” Older Rachel teased, wrapping her arms loosely around the body pressed tight against her. The older diva nodded in the direction of the two girls.

And then Older Quinn turned, eyes full of good humor that quickly turned to shock.

Quinn wanted to run. Everything in her being told her to flee. She couldn’t though. Her eyes were glued to an identical pair, tied together as if by an invisible string. When this older her slumped backwards into Older Rachel’s arms, their eye contact didn’t break.

She didn’t know what was causing this other Quinn to shake and jerk the way she was, but she was having her own freak out.

She had buried it so long, and she had been so successful. Just one more school year and she would have been free from the feelings that Rachel Fucking Berry had inspired in her. The feelings that had coiled in hot tight circles in her lower belly would have ended, but now, seeing that she was going to apparently be tied forever to the one person that had caused her _perversion_ …it was too much.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to run far away from these feelings. From this girl that was now holding her arms the way she had held hers earlier. From the heat that those warm hands on her arms was causing. She couldn’t though, her feet were nailed to the floor, and as terrible as it all way, it was strangely wonderful too.

She was in so much trouble.

**QFRB**

_I’m playing too much guitar, \_  
I’m listening to jazz.  
I call so many times  
I swear she’s going mad  
and that cellular  
will be the death of us, I swear,  
I swear.


	3. Giving Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such drama  
> much tears  
> very wow

_Now hold me ‘til you fall asleep._ __  
Not making it easy, no.  
We're holding secrets underneath.  
Not making it easy, no.

**QFRB**

The second the connection was broken, the second that the adult version of herself slumped completely into Older Rachel’s arms and turned her face into the crook of that smooth tan neck, Quinn’s feet were suddenly loose from the hardwood floors and she turned to flee.

Through the distortion of sound that was echoing off the sides of her skull she could hear one of the Rachels calling out to her but she ignored the noise. She was in the middle of making a break for the front door and there was no way she was going to stop for anything.

At least that was the plan, but then Alex’s long strong arms wrapped around her middle from behind and she found herself being twirled through the air and manhandled back to where everyone else had remained motionless. Her vision was a swirl of clashing colors and she could feel the nausea from earlier returning, but through the haze her eyes automatically sought out that older her, still twitching and jerking in Older Rachel’s arms, but to a lesser degree.

Quinn struggled as much as she could, but Alex held her just tight enough to keep her from being able to do any damage to him. She stomped on his feet a few times and gave her the satisfaction of a few muttered ‘ouches,’ but he was too strong for her to break free from.

She was really only half paying attention to her escape, the other half of her mind was focused on the older her sitting on the floor in her comfortable clothes (she could see that the sweatshirt had a faded penguin on it) and messy hair. The clothes hide all signs of shape that could be underneath, so she couldn’t tell if she has stayed fit. She looked older than Older Rachel did and that kind of ticked her off, but it was mostly around her eyes, so it would seem that she had decided to skip the Botox, unlike her mother.

Older Quinn had stopped shaking and was getting up with help from Older Rachel. She didn’t stumble; she didn’t need to be held up while she gained her bearings. She was strong and sure footed and took the space separating her from her younger self in two strides. She brought her hands up and clasped them on Young Quinn’s cheeks with just enough force to leave a bit of sting and then held her still. “Hey! Stop it.”

She didn’t say anything else, she didn’t have to. Young Quinn stopped out of surprise more than obedience, but it was a halt nonetheless. She stared into identical eyes again and she just wanted to cry, could feel her eyes stinging with want of tears. She wanted to cry because the whole situation was just so fucked up. She wanted to cry because she couldn’t figure out why she was so happy.

Older Quinn smiled gently at her with something akin to pity. Young Quinn would have been upset had any other person looked at her that way, as it was though, it didn’t do more than tweak her nose. She had always enjoyed a good pity party. Older Quinn broke eye contact and looked up at Alex. “Take her to Morgan’s room. That’s where she’ll be staying. I’ll be up in a little bit.” The last was directed to Young Quinn.

“Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”

“On your top bunk, so that means you’ll need to go clean it off after you show her to her room.”

“Do I not get a say in this?” Young Quinn asked the adults, it came out less forceful than she wanted.

“No,” they said at the same time, Older Rachel with conviction and Older Quinn with a quiet weariness.

“Come on,” Alex commanded gently, leading her up the stairs by the arm. In the upstairs hallway they passed several doors and she got glimpses of a few photo frames but there was no opportunity to stop and look at the contents. Not that she wanted to or anything.

They were near the end of the hall when he stopped in front of a door. “Lucky you, you’re across the hall from my parents. Hope you’re a deep sleeper,” he commented with humor. When she didn’t respond he added, “The bath room is next door.”

He didn’t let her go until he had opened the door and nudged her in ahead of him, taking up the doorway so she couldn’t get passed him. She didn’t bother trying. She would just wait until he left to try and sneak out.

The room that Quinn found herself standing in was small. The furniture was simple and black, a chest of drawers, a nightstand, a dresser, and a book shelf. The bed was a twin and had no headboard, the bedding was black and the comforter had a large white dandelion with the florets floating away on it. The book shelf was empty, the nightstand held only a simple lamp with a black shade, and on the dresser there was a picture frame, but from the angle she was standing Quinn couldn’t see what it held. On top of the chest of drawers there was a small flat screen television, unplugged with the cord wrapped around the base, and a small black box that only had a power button and a USB port. She assumed it was some sort of devise for playing movies and didn’t give it any further thought.

The walls were blank except for a single framed picture of a black dandelion on a white background, similar to the one on the bed.

She stepped farther into the room.

Alex stood at the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and then back again. “So um, this is Morgan’s room when he comes to visit,” he told her. “He doesn’t come back much, so most of this stuff is from when he was younger.”

“Is he gay?” Quinn asked in a quiet, subdued voice, running her hand lightly over the black and white bedspread.

“Labels aren’t like, a thing, anymore, but no, I don’t think so. He’s always just liked dandelions,” Alex replied, his brow drawing in as he gave it actual thought. “He has some deep thing about it. Like the wind will carry you to where you need to go or something like that.”

“That’s not what I meant, but I guess the dandelions are a little girly.”

“What did you mean?”

Quinn struggled to verbalize it. “Rachel has two dads, you guys have two moms,” she said slowly. She knew even before she saw Alex stiffen up in her peripheral vision that she definitely shouldn’t have said it like that. She didn’t want to accept that she was attracted to Rachel, or any girl for that matter, but her words had even offended _her_. It was like the ignorance that she had been bottle feed was spewing out without her permission. But if it all sounded that ridiculous coming up, maybe she should say more, then it wouldn’t be inside of her.

She meant to say sorry. She meant to take it back or smooth it over. She meant to do anything she could to take away the sting or distract from it. But when she looked up at Alex and saw that he was angry, and upset if his pout is anything to go on, she fell back onto her natural reaction to seeing anger directed at her. She became defensive. She locked down. She added extra fortification around her heart because there was just no way that she was actually feeling anything close to regretful.

“So, what? We have two moms so we must all be gay?” He sneered a little. “You have a mom and a dad, what’s your excuse?”

“I was just wondering,” Quinn insisted, her hackles rising. “And I’m not even gay.”

Alex scoffs and looks away, rolling his eyes, and Quinn can see for that first time, that as much as he’s definitely Rachel’s kid, he’s hers too. It’s a scarily pleasant thought and she kills it as soon as it tries to take root. “Are you sure you’re Quinn Fabray? Cause you don’t sound very much like my Momma.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Quinn spat at him. “I’m just a kid.” Her nails bit at her palms. “I’m just a kid,” it was quieter the second time, and a little too broken for Quinn’s liking.

Alex loosened up, back to pouting and still not looking at her, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. “I guess it makes sense now. ‘I want to live forever, this time.’ Hmm, yeah.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re a coward, and you’re really sad. You won’t be forever though, so that’s good.” He was almost smiling now and she could see that he was glancing at her. His little knowing grin pissed her off. Sure he was apparently her kid, and sure he had known her his whole life, but where did he get off calling her a coward? Just because she knew she _was_ a coward didn’t mean that people got to point it out to her.

“I want to be alone.”

He nodded and moved to leave but stopped just before he closed the door. “You shouldn’t leave the house alone, you aren’t chipped, and you don’t have the right IDs or any money. You’re clothes are weird too. You’ll get hassled for sure, so just…don’t leave.” Quinn didn’t reply, but apparently all he wanted was to absolve his conscience if she did decide to leave anyway.

The door clicked quietly shut and Quinn was alone. Just like she’d wanted.

**QFRB**

There was silence among the three women downstairs until Alex and Young Quinn could no longer be seen. Older Quinn made her way to the staircase and sank down onto the bottom stair, resting her elbows on her knees, and exhaled heavily.

Older Rachel went to her directly, kneeling in front of her on the floor. It was a movement and position so dramatic that it deserved marks out of ten just like Alex’s earlier storm out had. “Are you alright, Baby?”

“I’m fine. It was just…so intense.”

“The flashbacks?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to just spring this all on you, but you weren’t answering your phone.” The last was slightly more accusatory, but said with just enough gentleness to ease the sting.

“It’s on silent. I was in my studio.”

Older Rachel moved to sit beside her wife and it was at this point that Younger Rachel realized that she had been forgotten, probably in part because she had not moved or made a sound since Older Quinn had tumbled into Older Rachel’s arms. While under normal circumstances she would have felt irritated, she was more than interested in seeing the relationship that would apparently develop between herself and Quinn in the future play out in front of her. “Are you not feeling well? Donny said you took off early.”

“Yeah, I left at noon. I was just overtired I think.” She grinned and nudged her wife gently. “No thanks to you.”

Rachel huffed and leaned her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “You weren’t complaining at the time.”

“I’m still not complaining,” the blonde teased. “I feel better now. I took a nap and got some work done.”

“Are you going to be ok about…?” She left the question hanging, taking Quinn’s right hand between both of hers and tangling their fingers together.

“Yeah, but I’ll definitely have to go to the meeting tomorrow.”

“Do you need anything right now?”

Quinn grinned in an almost bashful way.“Just you.”

Older Rachel giggled, tucking her face against Quinn’s neck. “Oh gag.”

“Don’t even pretend you don’t like it,” the blonde huffed. She untangled their hands and wrapped her arms around her wife and pulled the wiggling and giggling brunette onto her lap.

“Well Alice isn’t here so I had to say it for her,” Older Rachel replied though her laughter.

“I haven’t had a proper hello yet,” Quinn hinted not-so-subtly, moving her face closer to the brunette’s.

There was no time for Young Rachel to prepare for what she was about to see. Before she had even blinked the two women were engaged in a kiss so tender and warm that she felt a thrill of fear shoot up her spine. Because, really, how could this feeling exist? How could she want to feel what they were feeling?

She felt the heat of a blush steal over her cheeks and ears; she gulped audibly when her throat attempted to close. She didn’t know if the sound had been loud enough for the two adults to hear, but not long after it escaped her they pulled away just far enough that their noses still touched.

Older Quinn licked her lips and Young Rachel thought her face just might explode from how hot it felt. “Welcome home,” the blonde husked. She went in for another kiss, but it was blessedly shorter. The younger diva didn’t think she could survive seeing another full on mauling. “I think we just broke Little Rachel.”

“She’ll live.”

“Obviously,” Quinn replied, giving her wife a suggestive once over.

“You’re feeling better,” Older Rachel remarked with humor. “You should go talk to the other Quinn. Show Rachel to her room while you’re at it.” She jumped off of the blonde’s lap. “I’m going to go start dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Quinn and Young Rachel were both silent as Older Rachel walked away, and the younger diva tried valiantly to ignore the way the blonde was watching her older self’s butt.

When the blonde looked up at her and smiled it was entirely platonic, which was surprising given the look that had been on her face only seconds before. Instead it was just sort of friendly. She stood and indicated the stairs with a nod of her head. “Come on, I’ll show you up.” She didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and started up the steps, fully expecting to be followed.

The brunette took the opportunity while Quinn wasn’t looking to observe her in her entirety. She had changed a lot and didn’t look much like the Quinn she was used to seeing.

Rachel wondered why this Older Quinn looked so different when she really looked just like the Quinn that had been lead up the stairs. There was something missing and she couldn’t place it. Her face was just a more mature version of the one upstairs. Her hair was the same, though she needed to touch up her roots. She looked… _happy_ , which was a little weird but not entirely unusual. She had seen Quinn happy a handful of times in the past. It wasn’t her appearance, she decided.

It must be the way she carried herself. Unlike the young Quinn upstairs, she didn’t stand like her spine was a steel rod, or, as some of the less popular kids in school would whisper when Quinn wasn’t around, as if she had a stick up her butt. Rachel had always found that descriptor to be unbearably rude and never tittered in amusement with the other ‘losers’ of the school. Well...not after the first time she heard it anyway.

She was loose and relaxed, and was actually slouching a little bit as she waited at the top of the stairs for Rachel to reach her.

The brunette followed the blonde with a few feet of space between them past several closed doors. When they passed one that was ajar, Rachel peeked in to see that Alex was on the top bunk of his bed, throwing various objects overboard onto the floor. She watched as he threw a shirt and it caught on one of the several model airplanes hanging from his ceiling.

Quinn stopped at the next door and waited with quiet patience for Rachel to finish watching the boy lean out over the edge of the bunk and wave his arm fitfully at the dangling shirt. She felt eyes on her and looked up to meet hazel, growing embarrassed at being caught watching.

“I apologize,” she supplied, moving to the blonde’s side posthaste.

“It’s fine,” Quinn answered, opening the door and gesturing for her to go in. “You’ll stay here while you’re with us. It’s Carmen’s room when she’s not at school, but she can room with Alice for a few days.”

“I don’t want to put anyone out,” Rachel replied. The graciousness wasn’t entirely false; she did have good manners when called for.

“She’ll live. She has seven roommates, I’m sure just having one will be a vast improvement.”

The room was stocked with furniture (a full bed, a nightstand, a vanity, a desk, and a bookshelf), but was sparsely adorned otherwise. The bookshelf was mostly empty. It held a few trinkets and several large text books that were musical in subject matter. The vanity was bare, and the desk followed in the same fashion. The nightstand held a lamp that sat on top of a white lace doily. The bed was nearly overflowing with pillows and the duvet was a warm chocolate color.

There were a few scattered pictures and posters on the wall. In fact, one entire wall was dedicated to pictures of the moon at various stages of its cycle.

“She was trying to find a picture that fit what E.E. Cummings described in one of his poems,” Quinn explained when she saw Rachel scrutinizing the mural.

“Which poem was it?”

“Cambridge ladies.”

“How did he describe it? I haven’t read that one.”

“The Cambridge ladies do not care, above Cambridge if sometimes in its box of sky lavender and cornerless, the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy.”

“Wow.”

Rachel felt the awkwardness creep over her like a shadow. There was nothing left for them to discuss and the silence pressed in on her in a manner that was nearly suffocating.

Quinn broke the tension with, “I know this must be awkward for you.”

And Rachel found that to be the perfect opening for what she had wanted to say since she realized who her wife would be. “I just find it extraordinarily odd that we will develop some type of relationship beyond a casual friendship considering that fact that you have never particularly liked me.”

“I’ve always liked you Rachel.”

“If you liked me so much, why were…are…were you so terrible to me?”

“I didn’t know.” Rachel narrowed her eyes and began to say something biting but Older Quinn pushed through. “No, I really had no clue, honestly. I was reacting to you purely by instinct. I blamed you and I blamed God and I did everything I could not to accept it. And I know that doesn’t take away the hurt you’ve felt, but that’s all I can really tell you.”

Rachel had nothing to say. What could she say to that? It was hard for her to even believe it, let alone respond. She decided to simply nod.

Older Quinn seemed to understand. “Little Quinn isn’t going to be able to apologize to you, Rachel, so I’m doing it for her. She _is_ sorry; I want you to know that _. I was so sorry_. The only way I’m even able to verbalize it _now_ is because I’ve had a stupid amount of therapy.”

“I forgive you.”

Rachel had to actively keep from flinching when Quinn raised a hand to her cheek, but the smile on the blonde’s face was sweet and comforting and might have made her knees feel a little weak. “You are an extraordinary person, and I know you’re already aware of the fact, but I just thought I should tell you that everyone around you is aware of it too.” The blonde dropped her hand and Rachel returned the smile tentatively, not-so-secretly pleased at the compliment. “I’m going to go talk to myself and keep me from getting any crazier than I already was. How’s that for a sentence?” Rachel actually had to stifle a giggle. “Feel free to wander around. Just don’t go in my studio, I’m working on some things. It’s the only door with a sign on it.”

“Ok, thank you…for showing me to the room.”

“Sure, Little Rach.”

**QFRB**

Quinn heard the door to the room open and close quietly and her spine stiffened reflexively at being disturbed. She mentally berated herself for facing away from the door when she had chosen to lay down on the bed. There wasn’t anything she could do about it though, the decision had been made and now she had no idea who had intruded on her solitude.

When a hand landed gently on her shoulder she nearly shrieked in surprise but she reigned in the automatic reaction and just jerked away instead.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s just me.” It was the other her. Her voice was low and soothing, something that Quinn had never really imagined her voice could be. The hand was back on her shoulder. “Come on, scoot over.”

“Why?”

“It’s cuddle time.”

“I don’t want to cuddle,” Quinn lied, curling in on herself a little more.

“Don’t even pretend. We’ve always loved snuggles, now scoot before I move your ass over myself.” Quinn made a show of huffing in irritation before she slid over closer to the wall. She didn’t look back as the older her settled in behind her, pulling their bodies flush against her so she was completely curled around the younger blonde. Quinn found that being so tightly held and feeling so secure was not helpful to keeping her emotions in check. They lay like that for awhile in silence, just breathing together and sharing comfort until Older Quinn started speaking again.  “This is one of the millions of wonderful things about being with Rachel. We can just cuddle for hours. It’s not like it was with our boyfriends, where like, can we not just snuggle without you trying to put your dick in my mouth?”

Quinn couldn’t help her laughter. “I know, right?”

“Now it’s like I have to try to put _my_ dick in _her_ mouth before-“ Young Quinn tried to franticly scramble away from the arms wrapped around her and Older Quinn laughed uproariously. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. Too soon.”

“That was disgusting,” the younger blonde insisted, but she relaxed back into the embrace without any further complaint.

“Whatever.”

They lay in comfortable silence for awhile, just soaking up the comfort of being held. The younger of the two was the one to break the quiet.

“Can I see the ring?” There was movement behind her and then Quinn was confronted with the simple but beautiful diamond solitaire. She admired it from every angle, taking in the clarity and lack of color in the round stone. “It’s beautiful.” She ran her finger over the platinum band, and the gold wedding band too.

“She spent entirely too much money on it.” Older Quinn supplied.

“Is it Tiffany’s,” she asked. Quinn was the type of little girl that had dreamt of her wedding since she was old enough to realize the point of fairy tales. The princess gets her prince and a pretty white dress and they ride off into the sunset together. Her childhood had found her to be blessedly oblivious to the tension in her household. As she got older and began to understand the dynamics of her parents’ relationship her expectations of her future had changed. There were things that she assumed would be the highlights of her life and they would come while she was young. Becoming head cheerleader, dating the quarterback (regardless of how she felt about him), homecoming, Junior Prom, Senior Prom, a big white wedding, it was all in the books. And while most of her plans had failed spectacularly (she actually still had a chance at Homecoming court and Senior Prom) she had thought that her perfect wedding would be her last hurrah. After that it would all go downhill. Her parents’ relationship proved that to her.

That was all the more reason for her to start planning her wedding at the age of twelve, which she had done.

An engagement ring from Tiffany’s was to be expected.

“Of course.”

Quinn flipped the hand she was holding over, curious to see if anything had changed over the years except for the skin feeling a little rougher. Something had, and she noticed it immediately. Four little letters at the top of the cup of her palm. Beth, in blue ink.

“What’s this?” Quinn asked, a little irked. She didn’t need an answer, she already knew.

“It’s a tattoo. I have one for each of my kids. This one is from Isaiah 49: 15 and 16.”

“Ok, I haven’t memorized the Bible or anything, but there’s no way that ‘Beth’ takes up two verses,” Quinn countered tersely.

The older blonde laughed. “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” She sighed. “I know he was talking about the restoration of Israel or something, but I read it and it just clicked that I should do this.”

Quinn traced the letters. She didn’t want to think about the baby she wouldn’t keep. “How many kids do we have anyway?” she demanded instead.

“Five, not counting Beth.”

“Oh God,” she groaned. “Rachel better have had some of them.”

“She had Alice. I had the rest.”

“Why? Why would you put our body through _four_ more pregnancies?”

“I fully admit to being a baby addict. I actually wanted more but Rachel flat out refused.”

“Do she and I switch brains at some point or something? I mean, seriously, when did Rachel Berry become the sane one and I turn into the loony?”

Quinn noticed it subconsciously, the difference in her current state of mind and her attitude toward defiance, and the one she would have in the future, by what the older version of her said next. “It’s different when you’re with someone you love. Our children are a physical manifestation of our love for each other. They show the world that I just want to take everything wonderful about our love, mix it together, and create something beautiful with it.” It was said calmly, no hint of anger, no attempts to change her thinking. Just a simple explanation of the thoughts behind an action.

“Ugh! Why am I even thinking about having Rachel’s babies?” she questioned, disgust coloring her tone. She didn’t like the way it made her feel warm inside.

“Because we’re in love with her.”

“Don’t say that!” she hissed through her teeth. She suddenly felt paranoid, like Rachel was listening out in the hall and would burst in at any moment.

“You should talk about it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, but you should.”

“Well I don’t want to and even if I did I wouldn’t talk to _you_ about it.”

“Why not? I’m totally the best person to talk about it with. We’re the same person, basically. It’ll be just like talking to yourself. And if you can’t talk to yourself then who can you talk to?”

“Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity.”

“Well then maybe we’re insane, but at least we’re in it together.”

“I don’t even want to talk about it!” she iterated, smacking the

“I know, I’m you remember? It’ll help though. And once again, I’m you, so I already know it will.”

“This is a really irritating situation.”

“I know.”

“This reminds me of that Three Fates thing in Hercules.”

“I know.”

“Ok, seriously? Stop it.”

Her ire only received a chuckle and a hand tussling her hair.

“God, I don’t even _like_ Rachel. I can’t even imagine feeling anything positive for her at all. Let alone all the…stuff that comes with _marriage_. It’s making my gag reflex act up.”

“We both know that you’re lying. You should just stop it.”

The frantic energy that had fueled her denials was wearing thin and a pressure behind her eyes was growing more prominent. “But if I say it out loud, it makes it true.”

“Honey,” Quinn flinched at hearing her own voice sound so motherly, “it’s true whether you say it out loud or not.”

“I don’t want to be gay,” she cried, finally allowing the tears that had been building up all afternoon trip down her cheeks. “I’m already going to Hell. I don’t want it to be worse.”

“There it is.” The older blonde rolled the younger over so that they were embracing front to front, and held the teenager tightly to her chest.

Quinn sobbed for what felt like hours, her whole body getting into the act. She had her face buried in the front of Older Quinn’s sweatshirt, fists clenched in the excess material and her tears and snot creating wet patches. Her vocal cries dissolved into hiccups over time and then into choked whimpers. All the while Older Quinn rubbed her back and petted her hair.

Even when the tears ended, and Quinn was left with shuttering breaths and a raw nose and throat, she continued to cuddle into the softness presented to her, searching out a dry spot so she didn’t have to rub her face in her own mess.

“Don’t apologize,” Older Quinn commanded just as Quinn had been about to open her mouth and do so. “I know that with the way you think right now you won’t be able to process or accept anything I’m about to say to you. It took me a long time to realize how much God loves me. It took years and several really important people in my life to paint my religion in a different light. I had to leave that place of fear, and I had to learn what ‘truth’ meant, and I had to move on from my childish view of Heaven and Hell, which you’re still stuck on. Grandma isn’t judging you, Quinn. God _loves_ you. He loves you _so_ much, more than our human hearts can comprehend. The way you love Beth, with every piece of who you are and how you were and who you will be? It doesn’t even come close to a fraction of the love he has for you.” Young Quinn was crying again, but she wasn’t alone. “I know you think so right now Quinn, but I am _not_ going to Hell. I love my wife, and she loves me and our love is pure. God blesses our love. He knows and he sees that our souls are made all the more radiant from it.”

Quinn was beginning to wonder how many tears she could possibly hold. The second jag didn’t last anywhere near as long as the first, but at the end of it she felt even more drained and her head was pounding. She curled against the body holding her, leaching warmth from the comforting embrace. She nearly laughed at her own thoughts because comfort and warmth were two words that she never thought she would pair with herself.

It was a product of motherhood, she supposed. And a product of medical science that she hadn’t gotten ridiculously fat after pushing four more kids out of her body.

“This sweater smells good,” Quinn mumbled, nuzzling closer in sleepy contentment.

Older Quinn had apparently decided to torture her and shatter her happiness. “It’s Rachel’s.”

She stopped trying to bury herself in the soft fabric immediately.

_Fuck my life._

“You’re thinking _Fuck my life_ right now aren’t you?”

“UGH!”

“I know.”

**QFRB**

_Help us find our way home._ __  
And you asked me if I’ve been there.  
Have I been there?  
I want to take you along.  
This I know, I want to live forever this time.


	4. I Think I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> women in the kitchen

_I think I love you._ __  
So what am I so afraid of?  
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of   
A love there is no cure for.

**QFRB**

Rachel didn’t tarry long in Carmen’s room. It felt awkward and very much like she was invading someone’s space. Once out in the hallway though, she took pause. The upper floor of the house was quiet. Alex’s door down the hall had been closed so she was faced with no opportunity for safe further exploration. She didn’t want to accidently walk in on the two Quinn’s during their discussion. After deciding that downstairs would be a safer option she started down the hall in the direction of the stairs, and in doing so, passed a picture frame.

She paused and debated if she should look at the photo it contained or not. She determined it couldn’t really hurt anything and turned her whole body so that she was facing the wall, her eyes though, focused on the wall under the black frame. Clenching her fists and giving her nails a good dig into her palms, she psyched herself for what she was about to see. Then she looked up.

The picture frame was digital and apparently set to shuffle through the pictures on it at intervals because as soon as she looked up the image changed. She didn’t have time to absorb anything about the previous picture, but the current one was a formal family portrait. Older Quinn and Rachel, somewhere in their mid-twenties she guessed, sat in front of a blue backdrop with a rather unhappy looking baby boy in a red sweater between them. They were both wearing matching sweaters and smiles.  The picture changed again and she was looking at the same set up, but instead of looking at the camera, both of the women in the picture had their eyes on the little boy. The smile on Quinn’s face made Rachel’s heart stop.

The pictures continued to change, the passage of time evident in the aging of the little boy and the addition of other children and changing sweater colors. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but it wasn’t until her eyesight became too blurred with tears that she looked away.

She didn’t know what to feel. It shouldn’t be so easy to fall into such deep emotion so suddenly, to understand things about herself out of the blue, to understand things about _another person_ out of the blue. It was like seeing this future had put every action Quinn had ever done into startling perspective. She didn’t want to assume though. Assuming was dangerous. There were so many possibilities and she could easily be wrong.

For the first time since she entered the future, Rachel thought about Finn. She wondered where he was, if he was scared too, if he had found himself, if he was married with kids. If he was in love with some other woman. If he had forgotten to think of her at all too. She felt guilty, but only briefly. It wasn’t like he could get mad at her, she reasoned. She hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had Quinn. All of this was just a possibility. The world changed with every decision made.

Giving one last lingering look at the photo currently on display (there were four children in the photo and all their sweaters were green) Rachel decided to just go with the flow until she could formulate some kind of plan. She would need a better grip on this future first.

First she needed more information.

She didn’t bother to explore, not wanting to get sucked into another emotional hurricane. Instead she blindly followed the sounds of humming and clanking pans and the closing of drawers. It was in this way that she found the other Rachel in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a skillet in each hand.

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, stepping more fully into the room.

Older Rachel turned to offer her a smile. It was surreal to see her own face looking back at her from somewhere other than a mirror. “Seitan Fajitas, with a side of real bacon for the Quinns.” Young Rachel could feel her expression morph from delighted interest to horror in the few short seconds it took for that sentence to come into being. “Don’t look at me like that. When my lady is upset or stressed she gets bacon, and I personally can’t fathom a situation more stressful than the one we’re all in now.”

With a simple pursing of her lips and no further comment, Young Rachel approached the counter to stand beside her older form. She accepted the cutting board and knife that was handed to her with mild trepidation. Her family was fully devoted to take out so she hadn’t really learned to cook very many things from scratch and being handed a knife while in her tense emotional state probably wasn’t the best idea. She was likely to cut off her own finger.

That definitely wouldn’t be vegan.

Older Rachel knew this, thankfully, and gave her very specific instructions. “Cut the bell peppers into even slices. Leave off the stems and get all the seeds out.” She held a red pepper out and Rachel moved to take it, but the older woman kept it gripped in her hand. “Before you start, why don’t you tell me why you were crying so you can’t blame the peppers and onions?”

“I was looking at the pictures upstairs and I…” she stopped. For all of her ridiculous vocabulary, there were no words to describe what she felt. She swallowed and decided not to try.

But then Older Rachel prompted, “Go on.”

She chose to continue with an easier topic. “I’m just…perplexed.”

“Oh?” Older Rachel asked, amused. “By or about what?”

Young Rachel took a moment before answering, using the time to carefully cut one of the red bell peppers into even slices. On the stovetop the meat popped. “I’ve never even really liked Quinn but somehow-”

The older diva cut her off quickly. “Rachel, let’s just pause that train of thought for a moment,” she ordered with a stern look. “We’ve always been very adept at being honest with ourselves. I don’t know why you’re trying to take a leaf out of Quinn’s book now after all these years of being uncompromisingly unique.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She pushed the sliced peppers aside and swept the stems and seeds into the trashcan that was pointed out to her. Once finished she pulled the flat yellow onion onto the chopping board.

“Oh, don’t you?” Older Rachel sighed. “Quinn has always been magnificent at lying to herself.” As an aside she added, “I need the whole onion chopped.”

“I still don’t see what that has to do with-“

“You think Quinn is beautiful.”

Rachel scoffed. “Everyone thinks she’s beautiful.”

“You tell her she’s beautiful,” the older woman rebutted with a tilt of her head.

The younger huffed. “I’m sure she hears it all the time,” she groused, giving the onion under her hand a particularly vicious chop.

“Not really. Everyone just assumes that she knows she’s beautiful and that she hears it from everyone she has ever met, and thus, they don’t say anything. She’s an insecure little girl; you’ve known that for a long time too.”

“Yes, bullies are in general.”

“She was never the worst,” Older Rachel pointed out and the younger had to concede this. Kurofsky and the other hockey boys had probably been the worst. They were equal opportunity bullies, no taking it easy on someone just because they were a tiny little girl. So in the case of physical violence and intimidation, he would always be the winner.

“She wasn’t the least either.” That would probably be Tina or Mike. They were the only two people she could think of who hadn’t said or done anything mean to her face.

“No, she wasn’t.”

“All I ever wanted was for us to be friends.”

“You’re getting closer, but you aren’t quite there yet.”

Rachel’s sigh was heavy with annoyance.

“I’ll make it easy for you. The _least_ we ever wanted was friendship.”

Young Rachel hesitated, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, not noticing that the sharp point got dangerously close to her face. She could honestly say that the tears clouding her vision were from the onion. “When she took me upstairs she said…”

“Yes?” The older woman tipped four pieces of cooked bacon onto a plate and put four more in the skillet. The noise made by the cold meat on the hot pan caused Young Rachel’s skin to crawl.

“She said that she’s always liked me.”

“Yes.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.” Her voice was firm with absolute conviction. Young Rachel didn’t question it. She knew how her own brain worked. Once she accepted something as truth she was unshakable. She didn’t try to analyze why she believed things, deciding to simply trust her gut instinct.

“How did we get together?” she decided to ask, it was something that had been burning to escape her lips along with a thousand other questions.

“Yet another long story full of sighs and it’s not just mine to tell, of course. You’ll hear the rest of the story soon enough. For now the short story will have to suffice.” Their stances shifted automatically as one prepared to tell a story and the other to listen. “We met during the winter break of our first year of college at a party. It was…Quinn hadn’t done very well at OSU. She fell in with the wrong crowd and had no one to help her out. She was vulnerable and I ended up in a position of power over her. For a long time that power kept me from trying to form any sort of relationship beyond friendship with her. I was in love with her, honest, true love, but I felt that it couldn’t be real because not only did it not feel like anything I’d ever felt before, but she was so dependent on me that I felt like I was taking advantage of her weakness. She needed a lot of help and I was determined that if anything was going to happen between us, she needed to start it.”

“Did she?”

“Eventually, yes. It took her about seven months of intense therapy before she was even able to feel like herself again, but during that time we were more than best friends and less than lovers.” She laughed. “It was actually kind of silly how long it took me to realize she wanted me. My roommates and I put on open mic nights every Sunday night and for the last three months of the year Quinn would sing a song to me every week without fail. It should have been clear sometime between Shattered and I Think I Love You.”

“She really sang I Think I Love You?”

“Yes, it was adorable.”

“And you didn’t realize she was trying to tell you something?”

“No, I thought she was singing to one of my roommates. I mean, she and Kenny were practically glued to each other whenever we weren’t acting like two puppies in a box. It didn’t really occur to me that we were all over each other all the time and that I was just jealous.” Four more pieces of bacon added to the plate and then new ones added to the skillet. Young Rachel had finished with the onion and was instructed to dump all of it in the other skillet along with the peppers. She did as directed and was then handed a bowl with three avocados and a spoon.

Young Rachel sighed again when she had returned to her station with her new task. “I had a crush on Quinn Fabray the moment I laid eyes on her.”

“There you go. Was that so hard?”

“It was extremely taxing. I’m not sure I can go on.”

“Well at least try to pull through. We’re not done yet.”

“I will make an attempt.”

“Such a trooper.”

They worked quietly for a while until more bacon had been added to the plate and the three avocados had turned into a bowl full of green mush. When the older diva put down her spatula and turned to face the younger, Rachel knew that something serious was about to pass through the air between them. When the older woman just looked at her for a silent moment she felt anxiety start to rise up in her.

_She better not tell me we have cancer or some other terrible disease._

“I don’t know if what I’m about to tell you will impact you or not. I know you won’t remember it when you get back, but I feel like it might stick to you subconsciously. It’s important, so important. In fact, it’s life or death. You’re going to have a choice one day Rachel. You’re going to be at a party and you’re going to have to decide whether to use the bathroom there or just wait until you get home. Don’t wait. Use the bathroom.”

“O-kay.” _Wait. What?_

The older diva’s face was grim. “I don’t want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom, Rachel. I’m sure my life would have been perfectly fine, but so much is different because I made that choice.”

The heaviness of the conversation dissipated and Rachel steered it into safer waters by asking about the children. It turned out to be a good move. If there was one thing Rachel Berry was more passionate about than musical theatre, it was her children.

“Five! I mean, I knew there were four at least, but five!”

“Quinn is an addict, she still wants more. I had to cut her off. I refuse to let her turn us into the Brady Bunch.”

“What do they all do? I know Alex is in middle school and Alice is in high school, but what about the other three?”

“Morgan is a struggling actor in L.A. which actually means that he’s a waiter. He does stand up on the side but most of his energy is dedicated to finding auditions. He’s twenty-three graduated from Juilliard last year. Carmen is currently at Juilliard and loving it. She’s majoring in Drama just like her brother and I did.”

“We made it to Juilliard?” She was glad she hadn’t been holding the knife because she surely would have sliced her hand open.

“Of course. I only settle for the absolute best.”

“When did we learn to cook?”

“We didn’t.” Older Rachel laughed at the display of confusion on her younger face. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there, in college and from watching Quinn mostly. She usually does all the cooking.”

“Quinn cooks?”

“Like a dream. You have to remember that Quinn grew up in a very old fashioned and conservative home. The woman’s place was in the kitchen. She cooks, she cleans, she can sew and knit, she does the laundry…she’s just good at household type work.”

Their conversation was ended by the sound footsteps in the hallway outside the kitchen. “Are we interrupting anything?” Older Quinn asked, ducking into the room with her younger counterpart trailing behind her.

“No, finish your talk?” Older Rachel replied without looking at their new company. Young Rachel had turned, though, and could clearly see that her fellow time traveler had been crying. She looked miserable and Rachel’s heart ached for her.

“We smelled bacon,” Older Quinn explained, avoiding the question.

“I knew it would tough on you,” Older Rachel said, turning with a plate of hot pig meat to present. It had been stacked artfully. “I made it in the shape of a log cabin.”

Older Quinn gave her wife a hungry once over. “I love you so much right now. I’m not even going to try to explain how glorious you are.”

Older Rachel arched an eyebrow so perfectly that her younger counterpart just knew that she had taken lessons from Quinn at some point. “Your fetishes are weird.”

“Shut up and kiss me before I’m no longer kosher.”

Young Rachel looked away in time, her eyes landing on a very interesting piece of the textured beige wall. Young Quinn hadn’t raised her eyes from the general height of Rachel’s knees since she entered, so she also missed the action but her cheeks pinked at the very thought of it.

“Kosher,” Older Rachel began once her lips had separated from the older blonde’s, “I would break for you. Veganism? Not so much.”

“And here I was, thinking I was special.”

“Sit down and eat you crazy bitch. It made my soul darker to cook it, so the least you can do is enjoy it.”

Older Quinn chuckled and carried her plate of log cabin bacon away to the six-seater table in the breakfast nook.

“Come here, Little Quinn, I made some for you too.” When the younger blonde didn’t immediately leap at the offer of a plate full of her favorite meat Older Rachel finally looked at her. “It’s ok, I won’t kiss you anything.”

“That would be interesting actually. We could time how fast the gay panic sets in,” Older Quinn quipped from the other side of the room. Every one ignored her.

“That’s not-“ Quinn started in response to Older Rachel’s comment, but she was cut off.

“You’ve been crying! Did she upset you?” She didn’t wait for an answer before rounding on her wife. “Did you upset her? You did, didn’t you? Give me back that bacon.”

“No,” Older Quinn resisted, hunkering her body over the plate. “It’s mine, and you can’t be mad at me for making myself cry. And I didn’t anyway, we were having a moment.”

Quinn tentatively touched the older diva’s arm to draw attention back to her. “It’s ok, I’m fine.”

Older Rachel pouted at the sight of Quinn’s sad face. “If you’re sure. Here,” she fetched the other plate of bacon, “this will make you feel better.”

Young Rachel thought she might have heard the blonde mutter something about a diet.

“Nonsense,” Older Rachel replied to whatever Quinn had said. “You’ve had a terrible day, go sit with Quinn and eat your bacon.”

The young blonde sniffled and accepted the plate along with an affectionate squeeze of her bicep.

“Rachel, you can go ahead and take a break too. I can finish up here.”

She approached the table behind Quinn, sitting on the opposite side so as not to crowd her. Neither of the blondes paid much attention to her, they were both occupied with their food.

 

“Well,” Older Quinn began around a mouthful of the pork, “we need to talk about what we’re going to tell Shannon. The little chatterbox is too young to understand that she can’t go spreading around that her parents traveled through time. What if the aliens find out and come take them away?”

Both of the time travelers felt their eyes pop, because Older Quinn was not joking. Her dour expression was focused on her wife’s back but turned to them when a green faced Quinn squeaked, “Aliens?”

“Quinn!” Older Rachel squawked, rounding on the older blonde with a spatula. “You stop that this instant.”

“But Nuggy-“

“Don’t even start.” She waved the spatula very close to Quinn’s face, nearly smacking her on the nose with it. “There are no aliens,” Older Rachel informed the time travelers. To her wife she added, “I can’t believe you would put them through that when you know very well how scary it was.”

“And now I know why I did it! The looks on their faces…” she trailed off in evil laughter. “Oh, God, I can’t breathe.”

Young Quinn, her face changing from green to red faster than a traffic light, slammed her closed fists down on the table. “That wasn’t funny!”

Older Quinn just laughed harder. “Oh, it was.”

“Not the point,” Older Rachel cut in before any blood could be shed. “You were saying about Shay?”

“Oh right, we need a story, that’s all. We can say they’re family or something. But you will need names we can call you so she doesn’t get suspicious. Rachel is a common enough name, and I don’t call you that anyway most of the time so…”

“No, we shouldn’t change anything from the way it happened to us. I don’t know what it would change since we didn’t remember anything anyway, but we should stick to the script.”

The older blonde nodded and turned her attention back to the teens. “Ok, Barbie and Charlie.”

Quinn scowled so deeply that Rachel was worried the wrinkles on her forehead were going to be permanent.

“Well I understand Barbie, as it is a diminutive of my middle name. I just don’t understand Charlie,” she said, trying to break the spell of tension that had floated up between the two Quinns.

“When I was a little kid-“ Older Quinn began to explain but the younger cut her off.

“You can’t tell her.”

“I can tell her whatever I want, as we are the same person.”

“I hate you.”

“Quinn, hating yourself is going to get you into a lot of trouble someday. You might want to start employing a new tactic.”

Young Quinn felt a vile sort of anger stick in her throat. That had been a low blow, she could tell by the look on her older form’s face, but she didn’t understand why it was so hurtful. It was an instinctual feeling. She just didn’t want Rachel to know about her childhood invisible friend. It was embarrassing to even remember it and she didn’t want to feel that way in front of the girl she…the girl she loved. She tried not to wince at the thought.

She didn’t want to see the look on Rachel’s face when she found out that Quinn had made up her own friend because she didn’t have any. The pity, the sympathy, would kill her. Not literally but metaphorically. She thought that her older self would understand that.

She seemed to, at least a little, because she continued with, “I’ll leave you to tell the story if you ever feel like it. Rachel will just have to struggle with her curiosity.”

The conversation bottomed out when Older Quinn rediscovered her bacon. The younger blonde did the same, enjoying the pleasant greasiness. She contained her hum of pleasure at the thought that Rachel (it didn’t matter that it was the older one) had made it for her, despite being a Jewish vegan, just because she loved her.

That kind of love was all she’d ever truly wanted out of life.

“By the way, what’s Nuggy?” Young Rachel asked during the lull. Older Quinn’s face lit up in amusement again but she didn’t get to reveal anything before Older Rachel cut her off.

“It’s short for Nugget and we will not be telling that story because it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing,” her wife argued.

“It’s terrible and you will not tell it.”

Older Quinn nodded meekly, but as soon as her wife turned away she winked at the time travelers. “I’ll tell you later,” she mouthed.

Rachel didn’t know whether she should be pleased that she would get to hear the story behind the pet name or upset that Quinn obviously ignored her wishes sometimes…or if she should be kind of turned on by the winking.

The sound of a slamming door and scampering feet on the hardwood floors ended any further conversation quickly. An eager voice called out, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”

Older Rachel chuckled before replying. “In the kitchen!”

A little white and brown blur streaked into the room and slammed into Older Rachel’s back. The older diva had been expecting this and had braced against the counter. Once the motion had settled, the time travelers could see that the blur was a little girl with long dark brown hair wearing an immaculate gi. She tipped her head up, focusing wide brown eyes on her mother’s face. “Mommy, guess what.”

“What?” Rachel asked dramatically.

“I got my purple belt!” the girl informed her in shrill excitement, jumping in place and pulling at the ends of the purple belt around her waist.

“My daughter is a ninja!” Older Quinn cheered, drawing the girl’s attention away from Older Rachel.

“Momma! You’re home early.” She climbed onto her mother’s lap and leaned back against her.

“No, you’re home late.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh!”

“No!”

“Ok you’re right, I’m home early.”

“I know!” The little girl threw her hands up in exasperation and rolled her dark brown eyes.

“Where’s your sister?” Older Rachel broke in.

“Car,” the little girl replied, she looked around table and saw the time travelers for the first time. “Who are they?”

“They are Charlie and Barbie. What do you remember about Grampa Fabray?”

“He’s a jackass,” the girl replied with the distinct air of parroting back facts she had memorized.

“That’s right. Well Grampa had a sister and his sister had a few kids and one of those kids had Charlie. That makes Charlie your second cousin, or something equally difficult to understand. Barbie is related to your mother somehow. She explained it but I stopped listening after about five minutes. It got complicated.”

Shannon nodded sagely and it caused adoring smiles among the three others. “You’re really pretty,” she told Quinn. “But you look sad. Do you need a hug?”

“I’m ok, but thank you,” Quinn replied with a gentle smile. Rachel felt her chest clench with feeling at the sight. She looked so beautiful, angelic almost.

“Ok, little ninja, you need to go get changed for dinner.”

“I want to wear my gi!”

“You will get your gi dirty!”

“I won’t!”

“You will.”

“Won’t!”

“Will.”

“UGH!” Shannon crawled out of Older Quinn’s lap and stormed out of the room with a little angry huff.

“She gets that from you,” she pointed out to Young Rachel.

In the front hall the door slammed.

“Took you an awful long time to come in, Princess,” Older Rachel called out.

“Nicole called and I didn’t want my nosy mothers listening in on our conversation.” She walked in, still in her uniform and a very neutral expression on her face. “Oooh, bacon!” She chirped happily, swooping in and snatching a piece before her mother could get it away.

“Hey! Hands off you little brat.”

“What are you gonna do about it Grandma?” Alice teased with a wink.

“Hold on, let me get my cane so I can give you a proper walloping,” Older Quinn snarked right back, swatting her daughter’s behind.

“Ow! Jerk,” the teen groused, jumping out of the way so her mother couldn’t get another swing in. “I’m going to go change and you can tell me about our guests.”

“Actually, we need to tell you now, while Shay is busy.”

The conversation with Alice was quick and painless. She didn’t wail about wail about how she thought they were hot and she didn’t get excited about how much fun it was going to be. In fact, she barely seemed interested in the time travelers themselves. Instead she asked questions about the event itself and the story they were telling Shay.

“Well,” Alice chirped (she did that a lot, like a bird) when they were finished and all her questions had been answered, “I’m going to go change now. Nice to meet you, distant family relations who I’ve never heard of before.” She winked and twirled, sending the pleats of her Cheerios skirt into a dance (those uniforms had barely changed at all), looking every bit like a much happier Young Quinn with brown hair.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen. Make sure Shay is actually cleaning up, will you?”

Alice’s reply was a wave as she left the room.

Older Quinn turned her grinning face to the teens. “Well, that went well.”

**QFRB**

Setting up for dinner was a shared job between the three Fabray children. Shannon put out the placemats and plates, Alex set up the silverware, napkins and glasses, and Alice helped bring the food in from the kitchen.

While they were busy Older Quinn disappeared to pull one of the chairs from the dining room into the kitchen.

They all sit down in spots that have clearly been assigned by custom, and Rachel ends up between Shannon and Quinn and Quinn wonders if God is punishing her or torturing her by putting her between the two Rachel’s.

“Who’s turn is it to pray?” Older Quinn asked from the head of the table.

“Alex’s,” Shay answered, happy to please. Alex scowled at her but held out his hands for Alice and his mother to take.

Rachel took Quinn’s hand hesitantly, but when the blonde didn’t try to tear all her fingers off immediately she relaxed and allowed herself to reveal in the softness of the blonde’s skin.

“Dear Jesus of Nazareth-“ Alex didn’t get any further before he cried out in pain as two hands smacked the back of his head in succession. “OW! Alright! It was just a joke, sorry.” The commotion at the table calmed quickly and he started over. “Daddy, bless this food so that it might nourish us and take us through the world to spread your love, and bless this company with whom we already share it. Amen.”

A chorus of ‘amen’ led into the sharing of food around the table. No one spoke beyond requests to pass items around the table.

“Are you going back to work tonight, Momma?” Shannon asked around a mouthful of fajita.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she replied, ignoring the question.

The little girl swallowed and asked again.

“No, I took the day off.”

“Will you read at story time?”

“Is it your turn to pick the story?”

“No, it’s Alice’s.”

“Then I think that will be left up to Alice.”

Shannon turned her large brown eyes to her sister.

“I’d like you to read. We’re starting Hitchhiker’s again and you don’t get the words wrong like Mom does.”

“Offended,” Older Rachel chimed from the other end of the table.

“Hello, Offended, why don’t you tell the babies about their jobs tomorrow?”

“Jobs?” Alex whined.

“Tomorrow’s a busy day. We have to get ready for Thursday. Morgan’s renting a car and should be around by supper time. What time are you taking off, Quinn?” The older blonde, caught with her mouth full just held up five fingers. Her wife accepted this with a nod. “Alex, you and Shannon will be helping me with the house work. Don’t you groan at me, young man. Alice, Carmen’s plane gets in at 1:15 so don’t stay up too late tonight,” Older Rachel directed all in one breath. Alex was stabbing at his fake meat with a mutinous face and Shannon was pouting. Alice just nodded and looked back at her food.

“No complaints? You must want something. I know you would rather eat broken glass than go pick up your sister,” Quinn said conversationally.

“It’s not like it would do any good. Why bother?” Alice shrugged and twirled a tortilla chip through her guacamole.

“While your argument is valid, that’s never really stopped you before.”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know, maybe I’m growing up or something.”

“Or maybe,” Alex piped up from beside her with a devilish smirk; “she’s dating Puckerman and doesn’t want you to find out about it.”

Several things happened at once.

Every eye at the table snapped to Alice, while Alice had her full attention focused on Alex. The boy sank down in his seat and his sister clenched her fist around her fork so hard that her knuckles turned white. Silverware clanked on glass and several chairs scrapped on the wood.

“You little toad, have you been going through my phone?!”

“There is no way you’re dating Puckerman, it’s unacceptable.”

“His hands were all over your ass at rehearsal this afternoon! How long has this been going on?”

“I didn’t have to go through your phone, Shay told me.”

“Shannon!”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t tell him.”

“See if I tell you anything ever again.”

“Okay, that is enough!” Older Quinn roared casting silence around the rest of the table. “Alex, switch seats with Charlie. Alice, sit down.”

The red faced girl fell back into her chair with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest, while her little brother and the younger version of the woman that was about to blass her out switched places. She scowled at the younger blonde just because she could.

Older Quinn reclaimed her chair as well and sighed, running a hand through her short locks before meeting Alice’s defiant gaze.“You are not dating Jericho Puckerman. That boy is his father made over, and while Puck has made something of himself, at that age his brain was in his dick, and never again will a Fabray go near a Puckerman’s downstairs area. So whatever is going on between the two of you ends tonight. That is final.”

Alice had swelled up with rage and indignation through her mother’s speech and by the time she had a chance to speak she looked like an angry cat. “In the first place, I’m not dating him, he just asked me out today and I haven’t even agreed yet. In the second place, it was _Seth_ Puckerman, not Jericho. And in the third place, I’m going to say yes because he’s sweet and he’s not in Glee Club or on the football team so I won’t have to deal with anymore drama than I already do.”

“Seth? Which one is Seth?” Quinn asked her wife.

“The black one,” she replied. “When did he ask you out?”

“This afternoon while he was waiting for his advanced class. He and Shannon go to the same dojo.”

“Isn’t he a freshman?”

Alice colored. “Yes.”

“He’s cute,” Shannon added, “and really nice. He always helps me with my katas.”

“Well…” Older Quinn paused and gave her daughter a searching look. “I guess as long as it’s not Jericho…” Alice relaxed a little.

“Are meal times always so eventful around here?” Young Rachel asked when the current Fabrays had gone back to their dinner as if nothing had happened.

“Yes,” everyone chorused, except little Shannon who added hers just a few seconds later.

“So Momma, did you get any crazy requests today?” Alex asked before shoving the entire fajita he was holding into his mouth.

“Not much went on today, but I left early. Most of the weird stuff comes in when the bars are closing.”

“What is it that you do, Quinn?” Rachel asked. She had been wondering ever since the older blonde had mentioned having an in-home studio but hadn’t had a proper opening to ask before that moment.

The older blonde hesitated briefly before answering, just long enough to glance at her younger self and then back to the younger version of her wife. “I’m a tattoo artist.” She allowed herself a moment to wallow in delight at the widening of Young Rachel’s eyes.

The younger blonde at the table was staring with equally wide eyes, her eyebrows nearly at her hairline. “How does one go about…how did you…what?”

Older Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. “I got an art degree and near the end of my senior year I went to my tattooist and asked if he would take me on as an apprentice. He gave me a bit of trouble at first but I showed him my portfolio and he took me on for a year. After my apprenticeship was over he hired me as one of his artists and I stayed with him until we moved here. I have my own parlor and three artists that work for me.”

“You have tattoos?”

“Yes, several.”

“Understatement of the century,” Alice scoffed. “You’re like a coloring book.”

“Oh not even,” Quinn rebutted. “The majority of my body is ink free.”

Rachel let the subject drop, but she was now nearly driving herself insane with the desire to see the tattoos that were hidden under all that baggy lounge wear. So consumed, she was, that she didn’t add much to the rest of the dinner discussion. She felt like she was sitting at the table for hours before one of the adults, she didn’t really pay attention to which one, ended the dinner with, “All right you little brats, time to clean up all this mess you made. You need to get some homework done before story time.”

“Aww, Mom, we have all break to do our homework,” Alex whined.

“And if you get it done tonight you won’t have to worry about doing it all on Sunday night.”

They all helped to clean up the dishes and put away the leftovers. And when Shannon tried to rope Young Rachel into going to look at her Barbie Dream House, Alice recued her, saying they were all the same age and thus they were going to hang out. Shannon wailed about not being invited and both Quinn and Rachel had to placate her with promises to look at her Barbie collection later.

Alice led them out of the kitchen, Quinn taking up the rear.

As she left the room the blonde barely caught the whisper of words that passed from Older Rachel to Older Quinn, but she did hear them and they sent a thrill of fear and excitement through her. She knew that she had a chance to do things right while they were stuck in the future and she didn’t plan on mucking it up.

“I can’t believe I forgot our first kiss.”

**QFRB**

 

  
_Believe me,_ __  
You really don't have to worry.  
I only want to make you happy   
And if you say,   
"Hey, go away," I will   
But I think better still,   
I'd better stay around and love you.  



	5. Just Can't Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought this fic was supposed to be funny...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse as well as self harm in this chapter.

_Sleep the city lights are lonely_ __  
Wake with the stars that came before me  
Dream a dream a dream a dream  
Will you dream a dream for me  
I lay awake in my bed with the stars to comfort for me

**QFRB**

Alice’s room looked like something out of a magazine or movie. It was bright and airy. The base and crown moldings were white, the walls a lovely baby blue, and all the furniture was white French Provincial and looked suited for a princess. The full canopy bed matched the color scheme further with a duvet only a shade darker than the walls and gauzy white hangings that were matched at the window in the room. A white throw blanket with a pattern of little blue birds was draped over the baseboard. On the bedside table there was delicate lamp, white, and a pair of black framed glasses. There was a writing desk to the left of the door with a tablet computer sitting on top along with a fancy calligraphy set. On the back of the chair was a Cheerio letterman jacket, and a red Cheerio backpack was in the chair. The top of the vanity was scattered with various makeups, creams, cleansers and a few medication bottles. To the right of the door stood a large white bird cage. Inside, seven little blue birds were flitting around, chirping and singing and building nests in three hamster balls that had been suspended around the cage. There was no bookshelf. Instead floating shelves had been installed around the room like a border. A few of the shelves held well loved books, bindings so cracked from being bent back that the tittles were obscured. Others held little trinkets. A few were dedicated to little porcelain dolls. The majority held awards, trophies, medals, and (both Quinn and Rachel noted) two shiny tiaras.

Alice noticed their gazes as she passed them to fall onto her bed. “Junior Prom and Homecoming,” she informed them without arrogance or pride, just a bored sort of acknowledgement. “Pass me my bag and tablet, would you?”

Quinn was closer to the desk so ended up following the order. Alice took the items and patted the spot beside her. Quinn climbed onto the bed carefully and sat beside the girl, smoothing her dress a little more carefully than she usually would to prolong not having to look up and see what Rachel was doing.

“Are you going to go out for Senior Prom Queen?” she asked as a further distraction.

Alice replied as she dug through her bag, pulling another, far more battered, tablet out. “Yeah, but I won’t win. There’s this new girl, Lené, she’s pretty much the nicest girl on the planet. She’s beautiful and blonde and, get this, she windsurfs. How badass is that? Everyone loves her. Hell, _I’ll_ probably vote for her.” A silence stretched between them while Alice fiddled with the two computers.

Rachel moved after a minute of not being acknowledged and found herself standing in front of the birdcage, watching the little blue birds fly from perch to perch and steal bits of grass from each other. “What kind of birds are these?” She didn’t notice the way Quinn’s eyes tracked every movement she made.

“Cordon Bleu Finches. The one with the red cheeks is Sounder, the rest of them don’t have names cause they’re too hard to tell apart.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Yeah, fucking expensive too. That’s a six hundred dollar investment you’re looking at. Took me forever to save it up.” Alice patted the bed on her other side. “Come sit down.”

Rachel did as bid. “You bought them yourself?”

“My parents are kind of anti-pet. We had a cat when I was younger, she was the devil. She died a while ago, lived nearly twenty years, which just further proves she was an evil spirit or something, ‘cause that’s just unnatural. But yeah, I wanted birds and they said I could jolly well save up my allowance and buy them myself. So I did.”

“I hate cats,” Quinn muttered with a shiver.

Alice looked surprised. “Really? Weird, she was your cat.”

Quinn was distracted by answering by a startling vibration at her hip. She jerked in surprise and nearly flew off the bed.

Alice laughed. “Woman, calm your tits. It’s just my phone.” She fished the device out of the pocket of her red Cheerios sweatpants.

“It scared me,” Quinn defended unnecessarily.

Alice just quirked an eyebrow and checked the message she’d received, hammering out a quick reply.

“Who are you talking to?” Rachel asked in an attempt to distract herself from looking at Quinn’s bare legs as she climbed back onto the bed.

“What are you, my mom?” Alice demanded sarcastically and without thinking. She paused, grinned at Rachel and shrugged. “Never mind, I guess you kinda are. It was just Seth.”

“You have to be a senior, why are you going to date a freshman?” Quinn asked once she was situated again.

Alice just shrugged. “He’s cute and I like him. Why wouldn’t I date him?”

Quinn could think of a lot of reasons to not date the boy, even though she’d never met him. He was a freshman, for one, and she was pretty sure that Alice was going to be eighteen soon, so legality was an issue. He was apparently black, which while confusing (How did Puck get a black baby?), wasn’t really cause to be worried or upset. She barely reigned in what she realized would have been a very hypocritical comment about interracial relationships. She had procreated with a Jew, after all. Two of them, apparently. The boy wasn’t on the football team so her daughter wouldn’t be getting a popularity boost. Not that she needed it as a member of the Cheerios, but every little thing helped. Dating a boy on the football team could be the edge the girl would need to win Senior Prom.

But then, she didn’t seem to upset by the prospect of not winning.

In fact, from what she had seen, Alice didn’t seem too concerned with popularity in general, or with the possibility that people would judge her for dating a younger black boy that didn’t match her level of notoriety.

The blonde ended up shrugging instead of saying anything.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Rachel asked.

For an answer Alice pulled her tablet closer and poked around on it for a minute before offering the device to the diva.

The picture on the screen was of a very serious looking black boy in a brilliant white gi. His head was completely shaved and his intense gaze was focused directly into the camera. He was standing beside a large trophy.

“He is cute,” Rachel agreed. “Very intense too. I’m sure he holds eye contact well. He’s also obviously gifted in martial arts, so he could protect you if the need ever arose. I approve.”

Alice laughed. “If only you stayed this easy to please,” she lamented with humor. “He’s not always so stiff, either. He just has to look like a badass for the winners circle. They ran this picture in the newspaper and he wanted everyone to know how cool he was.” She passed the picture to Quinn. “You guys are in Calculus right?”

“Yeah,” Quinn muttered.

“Good, you can help me then.”

They spent twenty minutes “helping” Alice with her homework, which mostly just added up to sitting in silence in between her occasional questions and attempting to slyly glance at each other. She kicked them out when she decided to give up on it for a while and write her history essay instead.

“Three pages comparing Luther’s Protestant Revolution to King Henry VIII’s split from the Church. I could do this in my sleep, but only if the two of you aren’t trying to subtly glance at each other over me. It’s getting kind of creepy. Go stare at each other in the hall.”

Rachel, embarrassed into silence, knew that by storming out she would just be proving that Alice had been correct, but she couldn’t think of any other course of action. So with an indignant huff she flounced out, leaving the door open behind her but not really caring if Quinn followed her out or not.

Quinn, also embarrassed, flushed so violently that Alice worried that she might rupture a blood vessel and die or something equally dramatic. As it was, she only growled and stalked out of the room, slamming the open door behind her.

Still on her bed, Alice rolled her eyes and thought for the nth time about how insane her parents were and how they totally deserved each other.

Out in the hall, Quinn continued to stalk, but in the direction of the room she had been assigned too. She had fully intended to go straight there and stay for the rest of the night, nursing her pride and trying not to think about Rachel’s legs.

That’s why, when she saw the aforementioned legs disappear into one of the rooms between Alice’s and Morgan’s, it surprised her that she followed them into the room without a thought to what she was going to do.

She wasn’t thinking though.

She was acting on instinct.

And her instinct was that she had been hot for Rachel Berry since the second she saw her walking down the hall on their first day of high school

So she followed her into the room and didn’t come back to awareness until she felt soft skin under her fingers and was looking into a pair of wide brown eyes.

Rachel was startled to feel a hand around her wrist, even more so when she felt the owner of that hand twirl her around. But when she caught Quinn’s eyes she wasn’t surprised.

She knew what Quinn was going to do, the way she was looking at her left no doubt; she could see it shining out of her like a beacon. Like the Bat Signal.

_Warning! Incoming Kiss!_

“Quinn,” Rachel managed, but her breath caught immediately after and she couldn’t continue. She didn’t know what she should do, didn’t know if she should stop it. She didn’t want to stop it though.

“I just need to see…” the blonde whispered, shuffling a little closer and gripping Rachel’s wrist tighter. Hazel eyes were staring intently at her lips. They shifted up and their eyes locked.

The world ground to a halt. Or maybe it sped up. Rachel wasn’t sure which, but she did know that she was pulling Quinn closer by the hold the blonde had on her arm until the distance between them was nearly non-existent. She could feel warm breath on her face.

It smelled like the peppers from dinner.

A knock on the door halted all movement in the room. Rachel didn’t even breathe; her gaze locked on Quinn’s dilated eyes. She watched the pupil’s shrink rapidly as reality came crashing back to them and then the blonde was no longer in front of her, no longer touching her. She leapt away so quickly that the friction of her fingers leaving the brunette’s wrist causes a buzzing tingle on their skin.

“Come in,” Rachel called out despite the fact that her mouth felt like a desert.

Older Quinn opened the door and stepped in.

They were on opposite sides of the room, which looked suspicious no matter which way you looked at it, and Rachel knew that. So she was a little surprised to see that Older Quinn was shooting an irritated scowl at Younger Quinn, it told her that Quinn knew exactly what she had interrupted.

“You have a phone call downstairs, Rachel,” Older Quinn informed her without moving her gaze from the younger blonde.

“A phone call?”

“Yes, Finn called to speak with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, so don’t keep him waiting.”

Rachel left with only one backward glance at the two blondes.

Older Quinn kept her hard gaze on the younger blonde until she was sure Rachel was well out of ear shot. Then she grabbed her by the upper arm and steered her out of the room and into the hallway, pulling her along in the direction of Morgan’s room. “What the fuck are playing at?” she hissed when they arrived, spinning the girl around to face her.

“I don’t know what you mean. And I wish you wouldn’t curse at me.”

“A standard Fabray response. How original.”

“If you know so much, why don’t you tell me what _you_ think I’m doing?”

“What, and let you off the hook? I don’t think so.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Are you joking? It’s entirely my business. I, unlike you, have fully accepted my love for Rachel and I’m not about to let you hurt her worse than you already have.” She shoved the younger blonde back until she was forced to sit on Morgan’s bed. “Because you would have run and you know it, and it would destroy her. Maybe not permanently, but enough that just a little more trust between you would be lost.”

“You don’t know…I could have been fine.”

The older blonde sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “No Quinn, you aren’t ready.”

“It’s up to me to decide when I’m ready. Not you. And don’t try that ‘we’re the same person’ crap either, ‘cause we’re not.”

Older Quinn didn’t say anything for a moment, she just watched the younger blonde grow uncomfortable in the silence.

“Do you know why Huckleberry Finn is such a fantastic novel?”

Quinn started at the strange turn in the conversation. “What?”

“It’s because it’s about a little boy who _knows_ in his heart of hearts that he will go to Hell if he helps a black man escape slavery, and he does it anyway. _He does it anyway._ He accepts his fate. He loves his friend more than he fears Hell. And even though it goes against everything that he was raised to believe, he does right by his heart.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just think about it. It’ll come to you.”

**QFRB**

Downstairs, Rachel wandered in to the kitchen, unsure of where the landline was located. She found the older her standing at one of the counters with the phone to her ear. When Rachel entered she looked up. “Hold on a second, Finn.” She held the phone out to the younger brunette.

Rachel took the receiver from her with a tight smile and waited for the other woman to retreat back to the counter, where she was busy rolling out cookie dough, before bringing the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Rachel?”

“Hi Finn.”

“This is my Rachel, right? Not the…other one?”

“Yes, I’m,” she cringed, “yours.”

“Oh, good.” A quick silence fell before Finn continued. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m very well. Are you?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m ok. Nothing bad happened like with Kurt or anything. This is all so…”he trailed off with a sound of frustration.

“I understand,” Rachel was quick to reassure him. Though she couldn’t be 100 percent sure of what he was trying to say, it was best to assume in Finn’s case before he through a fit. “It’s very strange for me too. What happened to Kurt?”

“Oh, he’s okay now. He just showed up in the middle of a crosswalk in New York City with, like, cars coming at him. He said he nearly died, but Adult Kurt said he was just shook up a little.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

“Totally.” He was quiet for a moment and Rachel could hear him shifting around on the other end of the line. “I um…I don’t know what you know about what happened with…me.” He was hesitant, and actually sounded a little guilty.

“I honestly don’t know anything. It’s been very hectic around here.” It wasn’t a lie; she was in a house with five other very loud personalities. There was no need to tell her boyfriend that she hadn’t even thought to wonder about his safety or whereabouts until hours after their initial arrival to the future. That would just be cruel.

“Well, Adult Me didn’t tell me much about you. Just that you went to New York and then your dad died so you moved back here.” The guilt cut into her again, because Finn had obviously wondered about her.

“Yes, that all seems to be the case.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

Rachel swallowed audibly. That was another thing she hadn’t thought about, at least not in detail.“I…thank you. It doesn’t really feel real yet.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence overpowered them again for a few minutes. Rachel watched the timer on the phone tick of the seconds and listened to the sounds of preparation carrying on behind her.

Rachel couldn’t take the chokehold for very long. “So, how did you end up?”

“I own Burt’s car shop. That’s where I showed up. And…I’m married…to someone that isn’t you. Well, I mean, duh cause if we were married we’d be in the same spot or something but…”

“It’s okay, Finn. I understand what you mean.”

“So you’re not mad? That we didn’t end up together.” Anger wasn’t anywhere near what she was feeling. Relief was closer.

“I…no, I’m not angry. Feelings…change sometimes. Does she treat you well?”

“Yeah, she’s really nice, I guess. She’s pretty, and she’s a great cook. We had roast beef for dinner. I have a kid too. Two of them actually, but one is away at college. Nathan, though, he’s in high school. He’s in Glee Club and on the football team.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. Are you…happy?”

She knew he was fishing for information but she was hesitant to give him too much. If she were to tell him that she ended up with his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him with his best friend, over the phone, it would definitely be easier on her, but it was also the coward’s way out. She cared about him too much to do that.

 _Less is best. “_ Yes. I’m married and I have children. I haven’t heard a great deal about it, but I apparently did well on Broadway also.”

“That’s awesome. Everyone knows you’re gonna make it but the…validation must be nice. That’s the right word, right? Validation?”

Rachel smiled at his sweetness. “Yes, that’s the right word.”

“Cool. I kind of wish we were gonna remember this all.” Rachel agreed silently, but she imagined that Finn didn’t have the same reasons she did for not wanting to forget. “I have diabetes, so if I was going to remember this I would start eating right and stuff. I wouldn’t stop working out after college either, cause I kind of have a gut now.”

“Oh Finn-“

He continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “But at the same time, it’s good, cause this way we can still have our relationship and stuff. Like, even though it won’t last forever, we can still be good, ya know?”

She definitely felt guilty then. “I…yeah, Finn. We can,” she agreed softly, deciding it would be best to leave him in the dark. There was no need to upset him.

“Well um, Nathan wants to show me some new video games. The new tech is amazing. He says you can literally feel like you’re in the game. He says you can even feel when you get shot!”

“Okay Finn, have a nice time.”

“Thanks. Maybe we can talk again later.”

“Sure, Finn.”

“Bye Rach.”

“Bye.”

Rachel dropped the phone into the cradle with a gentle click. She couldn’t find a reason for the tears pricking at her eyes. The call had only made her a little upset because of mild guilt, and Finn was fine, happy even.

A pair of gentle hands on her shoulders encouraged her to turn into an embrace. She wound up hugging herself and listening to whispered assurances that everything would be okay.

“Come on,” the Older Rachel whispered when the tears had slowed, “let’s find you some pajamas.  There are cookies in the oven for later and that’ll make you feel better. “

Rachel allowed herself to be lead out of the kitchen and up the stairs. At the top they were impeded by Shannon. She had opened her door to watch the halls in hopes of catching one of the time travelers so she could get them to play with her.

“Barbie! Come play with me,” she demanded before she saw that the young diva had been crying. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong baby girl, she’s just a little homesick. Maybe she can play with you tomorrow. You should already be getting your bath. Story time starts soon.”

Shannon sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes before stomping back into her room. She stopped at the door and turned back to Rachel. “I hope you feel better soon, Barbie.”

Rachel managed a small smile. She knew the little girl was mostly wishing her well out of selfishness, but it was sweet too.

They continued down the hall and around the corner, passing a room with a sign on the door, Quinn’s studio. It was a Do Not Enter sign that looked like it was legitimate. Older Rachel tapped the sign as they passed. “Don’t tell the kids, but Quinn and I stole that.”

“What!?”

“Yep, good times. We weren’t alone, of course. Amanda, one of my roommates, had a truck and we all piled in and drove out to the country and just took it.”

“Our roommates must have been terrible influences on us.”

“Yeah, but they were the first real friends I had. I know that if I hadn’t gone with them, it wouldn’t have mattered. They would have come in that night and celebrated their victory with me anyway.”

The master suite was beautifully simplistic. There was only a bed, two nightstands and a dresser. All dark wood. Two small matching lamps with frosted glass shades stood on each table along with an alarm clock. The bedding was a gentle cream.

The walls held pictures in regular frames, not the digital ones that seemed prevalent through the rest of the house. Above the head of the bed was a beautiful black and white picture of the New York City skyline. Five pictures, all the same size, were lined up above the dresser. They were portraits of the Fabray children. Three of them were very familiar, but the other two were obviously of the children that had left home. The oldest, Morgan, is very clean cut and handsome. He’s got her nose and coloring, but his eyes and general bone structure are different. He’s smiling mischievously in the picture and the photo is so well done that she can almost imagine him tilting his head and regarding her. The other is Carmen, and it felt so much like she was looking in a mirror that Rachel nearly took a step back in surprise. The longer she looked at it though the more differences she could see. Carmen’s face was thinner, and her hairline was a different shape.

There were more pictures on the other walls and she went to them, only half listening to the older diva digging through the dresser behind her.

“I’m sure I can find one of my Juilliard sweaters somewhere, Quinn can’t have stolen all of them. Ah! It’s a shirt, but it’ll do. Now for some pants.”

Her gaze traveled lazily over the photos, only taking in the most basic details. They were mostly of herself and Quinn, older of course, and a few with the children.

Other people were mixed in some of them. There were several of Quinn and a beautiful dark haired girl.

“Who is this girl?”

Older Rachel turned with the clothes she was going to let her borrow in hand. “That’s Kenny.”

“Oh.” Rachel could definitely see why she would be jealous of that girl. She was gorgeous and in every picture she was in she was genuinely smiling.

“Here you go,” Older Rachel held the pajamas out for her to take.

“Thank you.”

The older diva waved away the thanks.

“When did we become so selfless?” Rachel asked herself in the middle of pulling her sweater vest off.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it selfless,” Older Rachel replied, picking up the discarded article out of habit. “You are me, after all. But it is something that comes with motherhood.”

“I’ve never felt particularly nurturing before.” She accepted the shirt that was held out to her. It was soft and well worn. “Or self-sacrificing.”

“You won’t either, not for a long time. Even when I was helping Quinn when we were in college, it was more out of a feeling that it was the right thing to do, than because I just wanted to take care of her. That changed over time, of course. It wasn’t until the doctor dropped this squalling little baby boy, still naked, still covered in blood and various other disgusting things, that I really felt like I would give anything to make someone else happy.”

She tried to imagine feeling that much. It wasn’t possible. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what she was being told so she allowed it to float to the back of her mind.

She finished changing in silence. Older Rachel collected all the discarded clothes. “I’ll give these a wash. I don’t exactly remember what day you leave, it was after Thanksgiving though. I just need to make sure you and Quinn have your clothes back before you return to the past.”

“I can imagine how confusing it would be to find myself wearing something entirely different than what I wore that day.”

“Exactly, so we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Rachel followed herself out into the hall where they found themselves bumping into the Quinns. Rachel kept her head down as she passed the blondes, not really listening to what Older Quinn was saying to Older Rachel about finding something for Young Quinn to wear. She continued down the hall aimlessly until she found herself stopping in front of Carmen’s room. She didn’t have anything to do here, except wait and follow an undisclosed schedule. She knew that the children all apparently enjoyed story time with their mothers, and that it was coming up next, but she had no idea when. In fact, she didn’t even know what time it was.

She entered the room and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

In her current time she would be sticking to her strict schedule. Assuming it was around 8 PM, as her internal clock was telling her, she would be in the middle of filming her Myspace video. She didn’t have a camera though, her computer was sitting on her desk back home, all of her accompaniment stored in an external hard drive that she kept locked in the fireproof safe in her closet along with several other items of extreme importance in the off chance that her house were to burn.

She could always busy herself with writing the letters she sent out every week to various organizations, but she didn’t really see what the point would be. She couldn’t take them back to the past with her, as her outfit didn’t have pockets and it would incredibly confusing to wonder where they came from in the first place. She wouldn’t be remembering anything that went on here, so it would all just be a waste of time.

In the end, she decided to do her voice exercises.

It would keep her too busy to wonder about what Quinn was trying to prove to herself earlier.

**QFRB**

The hour passed quickly and Alex went down the hall banging on doors and announcing story time.

He was very much like a puppy. All big paws and endless energy.

Rachel followed his retreating form down the stairs, giggling at the cute way he stumbled over his feet in his airplane pajama pants.

When she entered the room her eyes immediately sought out Quinn and she was struck momentarily dumb by what she saw.

Rachel swallowed audibly. “Glasses,” she muttered distractedly. Avid eyes took in the sight of two very similar pairs of black framed glasses on two very similar faces.

Older Quinn looked up from the book she was thumbing through. “Did you say something, Barbie?”

Her question sounded entirely innocent, but Rachel felt like she was being teased. She shook her head and made her way around the long couch to the love seat where she curled into a tight little ball at one end.

Shannon was sitting between Older Quinn’s legs which were stretched out over the length of the long couch. Alex and Alice were both on the floor between the couch and coffee table facing each other. Young Quinn was in the overstuffed chair across from the love seat Rachel was occupying.

When Older Rachel entered the room with a plate of cookies and glasses of milk in blue and green cups she set them on the coffee table. “Soy’s in the blue, cow in the green.” Then she sat at the other end of the long couch, facing her wife so that their legs overlapped, and watched as her children dove for the cookies. Young Rachel and Quinn were slower to react, but they both managed to wrangle a few cookies before they could all be snatched away.

“Alright,” Older Quinn started, settling down into the cushions with a wiggle, “are we all set? All have cookies in our mouths?” She received nods of varying levels of enthusiasm. “Let’s get this show on the road then.”

She carefully opened the well read book, stuffing a few loose pages back into place, and began to read. “ _Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea._

_This planet has (or rather had) a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy._

_And so the problem remained; lots of the people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches.”_

Quinn’s reading voice was pleasant, just like her speaking voice. She had an even pacing and never stumbled over the made up words. Whether this was because she was very good at reading ahead or because she had read the book so many times before was unknown to the time travelers. They both felt themselves being lulled into a sleepy sort of stupor. Alex and Alice would occasionally giggle, but the room was otherwise void of noise.

When about an hour and three chapters had passed she slowed and stopped, checking to see if Shannon was awake before closing the book and handing it down to Alice. She placed one of her hands flat on the little girl’s back and gave her a gentle shake. Both Young Rachel and Quinn watched a pair of sleep blurred eyes flutter open, then closed, then open again.

Shannon inhaled deeply. “Hmm?”

“Time for little ninjas to go to bed.”

“But I’m not sleepy,” Shannon complained around a cute yawn.

“Yes you are,” Older Quinn argued affectionately, scooping the girl into a cradle. She was just a little too tall to be carried any other way.

“No, I’m not.” It was quieter still than before, and she rolled into her mother’s body.

“Are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Okay.”

The little girl’s quiet protests faded entirely by the time Older Quinn had exited the room.

Everyone else in the room began to shuffle around, putting movement back into tired limbs. Alice took the empty cookie plate into the kitchen and Alex followed with all the empty glasses in his arms.

Both Rachels sat up and stretched in the exact same way, arms straight over their heads and shirts riding up a little over tan bellies. Quinn’s eyes flailed to find a resting place that wouldn’t make her cheeks explode with color and settled on the tops of her knees.

Alex and Alice returned to the room in the midst of this and shared grins.

“Your Momma and I are going to stay up and watch television,” the older diva told her children. “You can stay if you want.”

Alex agreed quickly and with enthusiasm. Alice was less excited but she plopped into the space on the loveseat beside Young Rachel anyway.

When the older blonde arrived back down stairs she immediately situated herself on top of Older Rachel on the long couch and demanded that they watch Skins. “Not the shit one, the good one.”

Young Rachel had heard about the show before, but since it aired on MTV and she refused to watch any of the trash on that channel, she hadn’t seen it. Young Quinn had heard about it from Santana, and because the Latina thought it was the best thing since indoor plumbing, she had steadfastly refused to watch it, just to make the other girl angry.

Alice complained a little, because she insisted that she hated the show, but had settled down when Older Quinn had thrown the book at her (literally).

The show was British, which neither of the time travelers were expecting, and incredibly filthy, which they were. Quinn, in particular, was having trouble understanding what her older self liked so much about it.

“This show is deplorable,” she announced suddenly, about half way through the first episode. She was utterly disturbed and it had (almost) nothing to do with hearing her older self parrot Cook’s tattoo line in a whisper to Older Rachel and hearing the other woman giggle. She didn’t want to look behind her and see what kinds of shenanigans were occurring.

“I concur,” Young Rachel agreed with a nod, crossing her arms over her chest. Unlike Quinn, she didn’t have her back to the adults; she could clearly see that some form of groping was underway, though she hadn’t heard what Older Quinn had whispered.

“It gets worse,” Alice chirped from her place beside Rachel. The young time travelers weren’t sure if she was talking about the show or the business happening on the long couch.

“All of you can just shut up. You’re opinions are invalid.”

“I think it’s great!” Alex interjected.

“You are now my favorite child!” Older Rachel declared with the air of a Queen handing out titles.

“Yay!”

“Isn’t he a little young for this?”

“It’s never too early to expose your children to the dangers of drug and alcohol abuse.”

“Agreed!” Alex added with a serious expression, humor shone in his eyes. The older Quinn was nodding along as well.

“But this show glorifies the abuse of addictive substances.”

“It gets worse.”

“Stop that Alice, you know how it ends.”

“Have you ever even done drugs, Mom?”

“No I have not.”

“Never? You like, never did pot when you were at Juilliard?”

“No! I would have hoped that you would remember what terrible things smoking does to the lungs, Alice. I would never risk my career in such a way. And while I was presented with multiple opportunities in which to indulge in less damaging forms of drug consumption, I resisted the temptation. As a young woman you must be very careful about making yourself vulnerable to situations in which you would have no control.” She took a short breath. “Also, I believe that the use and abuse of mind altering drugs and other addictive substances is a sign of a weak person.”

Young Rachel nodded in agreement, feeling a little bit smug about the fact that she wouldn’t be lured into depravity in New York.

Alice rolled her eyes at her mother’s answer. “What about you, Momma? Did you do drugs?”

Older Quinn hesitated to answer, not because she wanted to lie, but because she knew that her honest answer was going to lead to a long and uncomfortable conversation. It wouldn’t do anything to stop what she had done in college. It wouldn’t help little Quinn at all because she was going to forget everything that would happen, everything that would be said. She could remember it now of course, most of it, and she could remember the boiling shame and fear that had gripped her.

Then she looked into Alice’s eyes and saw the defiant little girl staring back at her. The same little girl who had asked her if she’d ever broken a bone, and when Quinn revealed that she hadn’t she stuck her arm in the path of a slamming car door two days later, breaking the limb and scaring her older brother for life when he heard her screams and saw what he had inadvertently caused. She was the same girl that had asked her parents if they had drank in high school and stumbled home a week later reeking of alcohol when they had simply replied with a yes.

A long discussion had been had about the dangers of underage drinking, and the history of addiction in their family. Quinn wasn’t stupid enough to think that Alice hadn’t indulged since, but she hoped that the girl was being safer about it. She hadn’t come home stumbling drunk after that anyway.

She couldn’t just give a confirmation again, she would have to give the full story. Alice was the type of child that craved experience. Quinn felt like they were only too lucky that she hadn’t asked either of them when they had first had sex yet. That was going to be a fun day.

“Yeah, I did drugs.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way. You know I’m an alcoholic.”

The time travelers both looked up with surprise because they hadn’t known that and while Rachel was shocked to hear it said in such a cavalier manner, Quinn was just disappointed. While she had initially been surprised by the news, after giving it a little thought it wasn’t all that surprising really. Her parents were drunks (though her mom was at least trying to stop drinking) and her grandparents hadn’t been much better. Her sister, whom she hadn’t spoken too since Beth, had been quite the party animal in college.

Older Quinn had hinted that she hadn’t had the best start at college. Alcoholism. _It could be worse, at least I’ve cleaned up._

“Ok yeah, I wasn’t talking about that.” Alice rolled her eyes. “I was talking about _other_ drugs.”

“Yeah I did _other_ drugs.”

“Like what?”

Older Quinn sighed, studiously avoiding looking at the time traveling teenagers. It was hard not to see Little Rachel, since the girl was nearly in Alice’s lap. She tried to relax and draw comfort from every inch of her wife that was pressed against her. “Pot, X, coke, crack, horse-“

“Horse?”

“Heroine.”

“I know what horse is, I’m just…stunned.” Alice looked to her other mother. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes, and I don’t retract my previous statements. Your Momma was weak, but she made it through incredibly difficult circumstances and is standing on the other side of them, strong and proud.”

“How?” Quinn asked, drawing all attention to her. “How could…?”

The women on the long couch moved into sitting positions at the older blonde’s direction, but her wife stayed glued to her side, face against her neck and arms about her waist, while the blonde prepared to tell her story.

“It’s amazing how fast your life can get fucked up. It’s amazing how many times you can think you’ve hit rock bottom just to sink lower. It’s amazing how the money just flies away. I was depressed after high school. Hell, I was depressed when I was twelve. I spent my first semester of college chasing an unattainable high. That how long it took to ruin my life. Four months. It took years to build it back up again.

The first time I did coke I had already been drinking too much and smoking some pot and doing X at parties. But the cocaine, it was the most glorious feeling I’ve ever had. After I came down it was like being stuck in a worse Hell than I had viewed my life before. I started doing coke whenever it was offered to me, which was often because I was always invited to the best parties. I was spending all of my savings on drugs and drink and pleasurable company.

I was usually on a crazy cocktail. I partied every night and I stopped going to class because my crashes and hangovers left me so exhausted and depressed that I couldn’t even get out of bed. I lost a lot of weight, lost all of my money, and lost interest in anything that didn’t involve getting my next fix.” She stopped and looked like she was debating saying something. “I just wanted to be happy, and the only thing that worked was my cocktail. By the time December rolled around I had been kicked out of school and was living with some _friends_ of mine in a rundown house. I had no money. I had sold most of my belongings for more drugs, so I only had some clothes and a few things I couldn’t get any cash out of. It was amazing that I didn’t get arrested during that time. The only way I could get drugs was by doing _favors_ for people. I didn’t care who they were, I did whatever I had to for my high.

One day I got offered some heroine. Then I went to a party. I ended up crashing there and there were just so many people and I was paranoid and depressed. I went to the bathroom and sat in the bathtub for about an hour. There was a razor on the side of the tub and it was like it was calling me. So I picked it up and I-“

“Please don’t tell this part,” Older Rachel begged, interrupting for the first time.

Quinn ignored her. “-sliced my left arm to pieces.”

There was a collective gasp, and a harsh sob muffled against the blonde’s neck. The other Rachel had been crying silently for most of the story, but Older Quinn’s impassive gaze was locked on the younger  blonde.

“I was losing blood fast, and my left hand was too weak to hold the razor, so I couldn’t cut up my right arm. I was nearly dead. That was rock bottom.” She laughed humorlessly. “And then Rachel Berry,” she rolled her eyes, “walked into the bathroom and saved my damn life. The rest is, as they say, history.”

Silence followed the older blonde’s story for several frozen seconds. Then Alex was scrambling forward, crying without shame, and launching his upper body into his mother’s lap. Alice moved next, more composed, not crying, but no less moved and possibly more in need of her mother’s comfort than anyone.

Rachel, silently crying, rushed to the younger blonde that hadn’t moved since the story began and threw her arms around the girl

Quinn just sat there frozen, barely acknowledging the strong arms around her neck and the tears that fell against her skin. When Rachel curled into her and ended up in her lap, pulling them closer together, her arms rose of reflex and encircled the other girl, but she wasn’t really aware of it.

There was silence in her head. She didn’t know how to react. She wondered if there was even a proper way to respond to this sort of situation. This hadn’t been covered in her etiquette classes when she was a child.

_What am I supposed to say? I’m going to try to kill myself. I’m going to be a cocaine addict and an alcoholic._

Rachel’s hold on her was uncomfortable. Not because the body she’d been thinking about running her hands all over since she was fourteen was actually pressed against her, because that was honestly the farthest thing from her mind, but because she was having trouble breathing.

She pulled the diva’s arms away from her so she could finally get breath, but made the mistake of looking into watery brown eyes. It was like she could see Rachel’s soul aching for her and it tore at her insides.

She shoved the pain away, compartmentalizing everything so she could function on a basic level.

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her and it was searing into her flesh like fire, or a laser, or something that seared other things. Her brain hurt and she just wanted to be alone.

“I’m really tired,” she informed them haltingly, not meeting any of the eyes trained on her, “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

No one tried to stop her.

She lay in dark silence all night long, unable to sleep. She hadn’t really expected to find any release in passing out, and was glad that at least she wouldn’t have nightmares. So she thought. Her future was laid out before her and she wondered why her life was so tragically unfair. She wondered why it had to get worse before it got better.

She wondered why she had to be the cause of all her problems.

**QFRB**

  
_It hurts so bad_ __  
It hurts so bad  
When it hits my head  
It hits my head  
I just can't sleep  
I just can't sleep  
I just can't sleep, why can't I feel like that


	6. Momentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only the second day? Are you serious right now?

_You are the scar on my tissue_ __  
That I show all of my new friends  
Should I show you me?  
should I show you me?

**QFRB**

The morning dawned cold and grey. The pale silent light stretched across the wall like a ghostly hand. Hazel eyes tracked its progress with a mindless intensity. Thinking was too hard, or it was too easy, but all the subjects were too difficult to handle.

Sleep though, was impossible, and for that she was glad. Sleep would have brought terrible visions of her own attempted demise.

No sleep and she had only the vaguest idea of the time.

Quinn jolted at the sound of wrapping at her door. She stayed quiet in hopes that whoever it was would just keep walking and leave her in peace.

No such luck.

Older Quinn opened the door and stuck her head inside. She just gave the younger blonde a pointed look; she didn’t have to say anything. Quinn could guess.

“I know, I know, you knew I was awake.”

Older Quinn smiled a little, but she looked just as worn as Quinn felt. “Come on, we’re going for a run.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care. It’ll do your body good. Besides, I’m hoping we can keep you so busy that tonight you just pass out from exhaustion.”

_Valid reason._

Quinn sighed. “I need something to wear.” She had been given an old NYU sweatshirt and sweatpants to sleep in, but she didn’t especially feel like going running in them.

“Already covered,” Older Quinn quipped, stepping fully into the room and revealing that she was carrying a change of clothes. She also revealed something else. She was wearing a black tank top and her tattoos were on full display.

It looked, to Quinn, like the entirety of the woman’s left arm was covered in ink. It started at her wrist and went up over the length of her forearm and upper arm and then curved over her shoulder and across the left side of her chest. The right arm was bare but the younger blonde could just make out a hint of color, lilac or lavender, creeping over her right shoulder.

Older Quinn smiled at the look of mixed awe and horror on the younger blonde’s face. She had just realized that neither of the time travelers had seen the full extent of her ink. She held her arm out for her younger self to observe. The younger blonde, cautiously intrigued, reached out to trace the lines of gold stars and owls that covered the skin, the skin between them inked dark blue in between grey clouds. Some of the stars were clutched in the talons or beaks of the owls, but many were alone in between the birds.

“The stars are for Rachel aren’t they?”

“Of course.”

“How many are there?”

“Twenty-seven, one for every year we’ve been together. There’s the same number of owls.”

Quinn’s finger brushed over the largest star in the collection, which was over the older blonde’s elbow. In Courier font right above the star were the words _I want to live forever this time._ “What does this mean?” Alex had mentioned it the day before.

“You remember Julius Caesar? Where it says ‘Cowards die many times before their deaths’?” Quinn nodded. “It’s related to that. That was my second tattoo. I didn’t want to be weak anymore, I wanted to be brave.”

Quinn was silent for awhile, just looking at the different designs on the owls. No two were the same style or had the same color pattern. Purples, reds and greens were predominate. “I’ve always liked owls.”

“They’re my favorite thing to draw. I drew all of these. In fact, I designed all of my tattoos except the airplane,” she pointed out the light blue machine on her bicep, “Alex did that one when he was twelve.”

“That’s cute.” She dropped her hand to her side, blinking tiredly as she tried to catch her train of thought. “Why a sleeve? That’s what it’s called, right? A sleeve?”

“Yes, that’s what it’s called. As for why…” she trailed off and grabbed the younger blonde’s hand, laying it against her inner arm. “Tell me when you feel it.”

Quinn didn’t have to say anything, because when she felt the scars she froze entirely, even her heart stilled in her chest for a shuddering moment. Scars. She was touching scars.

She breathed and moved to the next one, and the next, going down in the direction of the older woman’s wrist. They felt more defined the farther she went, and they weren’t neat and orderly. They crossed over each other sometimes, curved, or shot off in a different direction entirely. When she reached what was the most jagged mark she looked down at the skin she was touching. The scars were nearly invisible from a distance, the ink covered them nicely, but the blue stopped right at the last scar. Above it, directly under the heal of her palm, the word ‘Love’ was written in black loopy letters.

She traced the word reverently.

“Rachel wrote it there every week for months. Any time it wore off she would rewrite it. One day I went out with Kenny and Cameron and got it inked on permanently.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she sniffled a little before taking a deep breath and tightening her facial muscles so no tears could escape down her cheeks. “I’m going to change. I’ll meet you down stairs.”

The older woman ruffled her hair and gave her a wan smile. She left without any further comment.

Quinn wiped her eyes and squared her shoulders. Crying wouldn’t do her any good. She was alive, she stayed alive, and that was what mattered.

**QFRB**

Rachel had slept, but not at all soundly. The nightmares that the blonde time traveler was protected from by wakefulness had imposed themselves on the brunette instead. Nightmares aren’t a picky sort.

They had shifted quickly, like channels changing on a television. Just as she would get used to the horror of seeing a mangled and bloody Quinn in a bathtub she would suddenly be in a hospital room, standing in front of a still body covered by a sheet, bloody shoe prints on the floor where the doctors had been working. Then she would be at a funeral, standing beside Puck for some reason. In the background haze a child would cry and Rachel wondered if it was Beth.

Then it would all start over and she would pick out different details in the different scenes. The color of Quinn’s shoes, the faint outline of a bloody hand under the sheet, the smell of peppermint in the room to cover up the scent of death, the pale white flowers of the wreathes on either side of the coffin.

She hadn’t woken during the night, just turned fitfully, catching her legs in the comfortable and warm sheets. Egyptian cotton, she had noted before climbing between them the night before. She and Carmen shared the same sense of luxury.

The luxury was no comfort to her heart.

A gentle wrapping at her door was all it took for her to wake with a gasp, one hand gripping the sheet and the other flying to her throat where it felt like her heart was lodged firmly. Rachel waited with bated breath, listening intently for a sound. Just as she was about to relax back into the soft mattress, the knocking came again.

“Yes?” she called, her voice only cracking a little.

“It’s Quinn. Are you decent?” The woman’s voice was muffled by the door, but Rachel could tell she was hearing from the older blonde, not the younger.

She checked to make sure the shirt she had borrowed was actually covering her and sat up in bed before confirming that she was.

Quinn entered, bearing clothes. “It’s six, and there’s only one elliptical in the house which my wife has already commandeered. I thought you might like to get your daily work out in by taking a run with Quinn and me.”

“I…thank you, that’s very thoughtful…” She, like young Quinn before her, had immediately noticed the visible tattoos. She found herself unintentionally licking her lips as her eyes raked up over the bare arm, counting gold stars that she knew, _knew_ , were for _her._ When she got high enough to notice that the older blonde was smirking at her, she flushed and looked away.

Quinn laughed pleasantly at Rachel’s embarrassment. “I don’t mind you looking.”

Rachel asked many of the same questions that Young Quinn had and the older blonde gave the same answers. The little diva didn’t touch her, and Quinn didn’t let the girl feel the scars. It would have been too much for her.

“What does it say…there on your chest?” Rachel asked hesitantly. Younger Quinn hadn’t asked to see what was written in Courier font just under her left collar bone. The older blonde didn’t know if that because she hadn’t noticed it or if she had just guessed, it was from a poem she knew well even in high school.

The older woman pulled the straps of her tank top and sports bra out of the way so Rachel could read the little words.

“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons,” the brunette read aloud. Then she confessed, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s from a poem.” The blonde gave no further explanation, but Rachel could tell there was one. Under normal circumstances she probably would have pushed the matter. She could tell it wouldn’t do any good though.

“You like poetry.”

“I do.”

“My Quinn wouldn’t have told me that.” Her tone was despondent, and Older Quinn quirked an eyebrow at the wording.

“Your Quinn?”

Another pretty flush settled over Rachel’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean-“

“I’m just teasing you,” Older Quinn reassured her. She held out the clothes again. “Here, get ready and meet us down staris.”

Rachel watched the older blonde leave silently, and she found that the ache in her chest was different now. Her dreams had worried her and as irrational as it was, she just wanted to make sure Quinn as still safe.

She changed quickly into the borrowed workout clothes and shamelessly dug through Carmen’s dresser until she found a hair tie.

**QFRB**

When Rachel bounced down the stairs and into the foyer, Young Quinn felt like she had just been shot in the face and the back of her skull had exploded off. She was dazzlingly numb except she also felt very heavy, especially around her hands. It felt like a sin, staring at the diva in those revealing clothes, her shoulders bare and most of her legs on display.

_Oh God, her legs, her legs, her legs, her thighs, her thighs._

_My head between her thighs…_

_OHGOD, OHGOD, OHGOD, OHGOD!!!!_

_Sinner! Stop it, stop it, stop it!!!_

Quinn only stopped from smacking herself across the face by recognizing that it would be pretty obvious what she had been thinking about if she did so. Instead she trained her eyes on her older self’s shoes, trying to focus on the details of their construction in an effort to erase the mental images she had strummed up. She could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t remove her wide unblinking gaze from their location. She couldn’t afford to.

Usually she was very good at keeping a neutral expression no matter what her thought process. She wasn’t used to thinking dirty thoughts though, not in public and certainly not with Rachel around. Normally she could control herself.

_It’s because I haven’t slept. That’s all. I’m just overtired._

At the foot of the stairs Rachel shifted her wait from foot to foot, looking expectantly at the younger blonde. She didn’t exactly know how to approach her after the previous night’s revelations and it made her nervous. She wasn’t used to not understanding where she stood with Quinn.

The young blonde was studiously avoiding her gaze, and kept it firmly on the floor instead. She couldn’t understand why for a moment, but the she recalled her reaction from the night before. She had thrown herself at the girl, literally, and in doing so must have made her uncomfortable.

_That must be it. I need to remedy this immediately._

She didn’t get a chance to say anything though before Older Quinn had corralled them out the door and into the nearly freezing morning air.

The cold was a shock to Quinn’s system. It helped her feel more awake and it cured the pesky ‘Can’t take her eyes off Rachel’ problem she was having.

Several minutes into the run that problem is mostly solved for her by Rachel slowing down until she’s keeping an even pace with the blonde, so any continued staring would probably be detrimental to her health. She isn’t given too much relief though, because as soon as Rachel has hit her stride, she started in on what sounded like a prepared speech.

“I want to apologize for last night. I realize that my actions must have made you uncomfortable and I would just like to clarify that I didn’t at all mean them in a sexual or provocative way. I’m sure you know that I would never attempt to force myself on you in any way, and I would like you to be aware that I’m very understanding of the fact that you are likely uncomfortable with your sexuality. I know that whatever relationship we have here in the future has been the product of events that haven’t yet happened and so I would like to further impress upon you that I’m not expecting any sort of affection from you while we are privy to information regarding our futures.”

Quinn wondered, as the speech went on, if slapping her hand over the other girl’s mouth would not only shut her up, but also satisfy her urge to touch her. The longer she talked the more irritated she became until Rachel’s assumptions started to chafe at her self control.

“Ok Rachel, stop talking to me. You’re starting to get offensive.”

“I was just attempting to-“

“No. All you’ve done is prove that you don’t know anything about the way I feel.”

“You were clearly upset this morning and I just assumed-“

“Well you assumed wrong. I didn’t sleep last night, but it wasn’t because you hugged me. Did you completely forget about the part of the night where I found out that I’m going to be a drug addict? Am I not allowed to upset about that? Does everything have to somehow relate to you?”

Quinn didn’t wait for Rachel to regain her composure. They had fallen behind significantly, so Quinn took Rachel’s momentary silence as a way to escape the conversation and put a little more heat into her pace until she was running ahead of Older Quinn and Alice. Rachel didn’t attempt to join her at the front, but she had heard the girl catch up to them.

Older Quinn allowed the tense arrangement for all of three minutes before she brought up the elephant that jogging with them.

“Alright, what’s wrong with the two of you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Perfectly normal.”

“Right.  Normal. It’s normal, what you’re doing.”

“Rachel just said something irritating, okay? Like I said, normal.”

“I’m just attempting to stay out of Quinn’s way, since she finds me so irksome.”

Quinn winced. _I just want to touch you. I can’t be near you or I will…_

“Oh is that what all this about? You’re both just irritated with each other.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“I see, hmm, just irritation. Nothing other than that?”

“No.”

“Why would there be any other reason?”

Older Quinn fell silent for a moment, a contemplative look in her eyes. “Ok, I have a proposition for the two of you. I want you both to tell me what you find most irritating about the other. Only one thing, though, so make it good. Quinn you go first.”

“The one most irritating thing about Rachel? You really want me to go there?”

“That’s right.”

“Let me think,” Quinn muttered. _The most irritating thing about Rachel other than the fact that she just makes me want to touch her all over._ “Ok, she’s completely full of herself. All she does is talk about how amazing her voice is and how she’s going to be on Broadway, and how talented she is. We get it okay? We all know you’re wonderful and perfect and talented. You can stop talking about it. I mean, do you even know anything about the rest of us outside of our musical ability? Having friends, being recognized as a person worth knowing, those are two way streets Rachel.” The blonde found herself out of breath and pink faced at the end of her little rant.

Silence other than the slap of shoes on pavement followed this pronouncement. Quinn kept her gaze firmly in front of her but she could feel the diva’s eyes burning into her skull.

The silence didn’t last long though, because without prompting from the adult blonde, Rachel went into her own tirade.

“Well, I hate how fake Quinn is. All she cares about is image, and what people think, and being popular. None of it matters.” She broke her gaze from the older blonde and looked at the younger. “None of it matters Quinn. Not in the real world. You’re a sheep that leads other sheep. You don’t stand out in any way. You do exactly what is expected of you with no regard to whether it actually makes you happy. If I thought for one second that you were happy acting the way you do, I wouldn’t bring this up, but you aren’t. You’re so unhappy that you can’t even see how good you could have it. Instead your greatest ambition is to be a real estate agent in Lima, Ohio, get married to the quarter back and have 2.5 children. And then you’ll get fat and be unhappy until you die.”

At some point during Rachel’s rant they had all stopped running and the diva was now lecturing right to the younger blonde’s face. Older Quinn was standing a little ahead of them, watching quietly with Alice at her side. “Look at what you could have, Quinn, if you would just be _real!”_ She gestured wildly in Older Quinn’s direction. “You could be _happy_. If you would just be yourself instead of putting on a show all the time…I just…UGH!” Quinn leapt back a step when Rachel screamed in frustration.

Older Quinn stepped in, putting a consoling hand on the diva’s shoulder. “Ok, I think we have an answer then. Rachel, Quinn, it seems that the thing that irritates you most about each other is your inability to relax. So, while you’re here, just for the next few days, why don’t you try to do just that? Relax, stop worrying about being judged. No one is going to judge you here. And even if they do, no one will ever see you again. Do you think maybe you could try?” When she didn’t receive and immediate response she added, “I’m not asking for a miracle or anything. Just your best effort.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll try.”

“Great, so why don’t we get back to the run. No more talking. Just think about how you can start behaving toward each other.”

It was difficult for Rachel to stay quiet for several reasons. She was uncomfortable with silence because she was constantly thinking about a variety of subjects. Everything would thunder through her mind so fast and with such force that she sometimes felt as if her brain was under pressure from all it contained and the only way to feel relief was to let her thoughts fly free.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to not make another noise other than heavy breathing for the rest of the run.

As for Quinn, the silence would have been a relief if it weren’t for the fact that Rachel being quiet and just running with her intense focus was a total turn on. She found her eyes glued to Rachel’s tan neck, watching beads of sweat roll down between her shoulders.

 It was almost more torturous than having to sit through one of the girl’s lectures in Glee club. Of course, in those situations she could always daydream about creative ways to shut the girl up.

For Quinn, this creativity always somehow involved her mouth.

An hour later the blonde’s legs felt a little bit like a mixture of Jell-O and fire, but they had made a complete circle and ended up in front of the Fabray mansion once more.

**QFRB**

Quinn had wrangled the shower second due to a few violent games of Rock-Paper-Scissors. She had washed quickly, borrowing soap and shampoo/conditioner from Alice, and then relinquished the shower to Rachel after getting dressed in more borrowed clothes. Alice was basically the same size as she was, a little heavier up top, but not enough that it was really noticeable.

While the other girls were getting ready for the day, Quinn thought it would be a nice gesture to go help her older counterpart with the breakfast. At least, she thought that until she actually arrived at the kitchen and found the freshly showered Older Rachel pinning the older blonde against the front of the stove with her hands very obviously working under clothes.

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she quickly dove back around the corner before they could notice her. She cringed at her own curiosity that kept her glued to the wall and her ears straining to hear what was going on in the next room.

“Rach, the kids…”

“Are upstairs fighting over the showers.”

“I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“I like you sweaty and you’re never gross.”

“Rachel or Quinn could walk in any second.”

“Well then they’ll see what they’re missing.”

“Rach…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to burn the eggs.”

Quinn nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the violent sound of metal on metal and several loud clicks. She chanced a glance around the corner to see that Older Rachel had pushed the half cooked eggs to a cool burner and turned the heat on the stove off. She was still pining the older blonde to the counter, and once done with her task she returned her (very un-manly) hands to her wife’s hips, grinding forward against her ass.

The younger blonde felt her cheeks burst with color and she ducked back away, bringing her hands up to try and cool the burning flesh. It didn’t help.

Neither did hearing Older Rachel say, “Now where was I?”

Followed by the older blonde whispering, “Oh, fuck.”

Quinn mimicked the whisper, hands dropping from her face to her throat.

“Oh fuck, indeed,” the older diva’s smug voice teased.

The moan Quinn heard instantly filled her with a very acute want. More noise issued from the kitchen and the younger blonde’s eyes grew wider at every passing second.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God, ohgodohgodohgod, OHGODOHGODOHGOD!!!!_

Young Quinn’s internal mantra was interrupted by the older blonde around the corner. _“_ Oh God!”

An evil chuckle, which could have only belonged to Rachel, followed it. “Feel free to call me Rachel.”

Quinn’s heart was pounding so fast, her breath coming so harshly, that she was amazed that she hadn’t been found out yet. Of course, Older Quinn was making much more noise.

She had never watched porn. She had stumbled across dirty pictures before when using Google, but only by accident and she had never taken time to look at them closely before exiting the search window in a blind panic. She had taken to never having her back to the door when she Googled anything after the third incident. Paranoia was something that conservative Christians liked to breed into their children right alongside the guilty conscience.

She had never watched it, but she did have very developed opinions about it and assumptions about the sort of things that happened in it. She did go to school with teen boys. She was friends with Brittany and Santana.

And those moans she was hearing were definitely something she would call pornographic.

_God, Rachel Berry is going to make me moan like a porn star._

With that thought Quinn’s feet were released from where they had been nailed to the floor and she scrambled away from the kitchen and back towards the stairs. She would just wait there for a little while and warn Rachel off of going in there.

She didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity to do so. Rachel bounced down the stairs only a moment after Quinn took a seat on the bottom step.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Hiding. You don’t want to go in the kitchen right now.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me on this one, you don’t.”

Rachel observed Quinn for honesty and found that she wasn’t lacking. She shrugged and sat down beside the stiff blonde.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was really mean.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed with a nod. “It was true though.”

“No, you didn’t deserve it.”

“I kind of did.”

“Quinn…”

“I just don’t know how to act around you. Especially now. I haven’t hated you in a really long time, but I can’t just…I don’t know how to…it would be weird if I just suddenly acted completely different toward you.”

“Quinn.” Rachel reached out and took one of the blonde’s hands in her own. It didn’t help her relax. “Why don’t you just be my friend?”

“I don’t know how to be your friend.”

“You could start by just…being nice.” Rachel shrugged. “I know it’s awkward right now. We’re apparently going to end up married and we don’t even know how to act friendly. We could try though.”

Quinn didn’t say anything, she just looked at the hand laying over hers.

“We’re in the future, Quinn. This is definitely an unique situation. I don’t think there are social norms for how to act when you find out you’re going to marry and make a life with someone you’ve never particularly liked before.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you-“

“I wasn’t necessarily referring to your feelings for me.”

Quinn winced. _Of course she doesn’t like me. Don’t know why I’m surprised. I haven’t ever done anything worth liking before._

“Quinn, look at me.” The command was gentle and followed by a squeeze to their linked hands. Hazel met brown and Rachel felt like she might drown in the sadness that Quinn held inside her. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you before, but I’ve never met anyone more physically beautiful than you. I could have done a lot worse than marrying you.” She laughed a little and Quinn followed. “I just don’t know anything about you. You were right, before. I don’t listen enough. I want to know you though.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I’m fake.”

“I’m sorry I don’t show how much I care for others.”

“I like how you turned that around there. I didn’t say that about you at all.”

“Don’t be jealous. I’m clearly cleverer than you are.”

“Cleverer.” Quinn tested. “Shouldn’t it be more clever?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s cleverer…” Rachel contemplated.

“Sounds weird.”

“A little.”

Quinn shrugged and bit her lip, trying to think of something to say.

Rachel, eyes glued to the abused lip, spoke up first. “What’s your favorite book?”

“Alice in Wonderland.”

“Really?” At Quinn’s nod she continued, “I wonder if Alice is named for the protagonist then?”

“I’ve always liked the name. It could be a possibility.”

They talked quietly there on the bottom stair for quite a while, trading little tidbits of information, and they both got their fill of staring at each other’s faces.

“What are you doing?” A voice suddenly cut into their quiet conversation and Quinn could feel her hackles bow up instinctively. She looked up to see Alice, changed and showered, and Alex, still in his pajamas and rubbing his eyes, standing over them.

“Talking.”

“Yeah well find somewhere else to talk. You’re blocking the stairs. And it’s time for breakfast anyway.”

Quinn was apprehensive about entering the kitchen again, but when she did, trailing behind the others, it was to find Older Quinn at the stove, looking only the slightest bit rumpled, and Older Rachel already seated, sipping on a cup of coffee like she hadn’t just had her wife pinned to the stove less than twenty minutes previous.

She shook her head in bemusement and took her seat at the table.

Breakfast was nowhere near as dramatic as dinner. This was probably because Alex was nearly asleep in his tofu scramble and he had been the instigator the night before. Shannon was equally tired, but she was leaning back instead of forward.

The adults were speaking quietly over the table about the grocery list that Older Rachel was writing out for later. They had a playful argument about getting a small real turkey and Rachel flat out refused, but the younger diva saw the older write it down anyway.

“Alice,” Older Rachel called to her sleepy daughter, getting the quiet brunette to look up. “While you’re in Columbus you need to pick up the Tofurky. Don’t forget.”

“Ok.”

“And I was thinking you could take Barbie with you. If you’d like to go, of course.” The last was directed to the younger diva.

“I would love to accompany Alice,” Rachel replied primly.

“Ok,” Alice agreed passively.

“Something wrong, baby girl?” Older Quinn asked, running a hand over her daughter’s hair.

“No. Just tired. Is Big Dad coming tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“And Nanna?” Alex asked sleepily.

“Mmhmm.”

“Quinn, it’s nearly eight. You need to go get ready for work.”

The older blonde nearly choked on her coffee, shoveled the last of her eggs in her mouth and then ran from the room, depositing a quick kiss on her wife’s forehead.

Breakfast ended shortly afterwards. Older Rachel put them all to work in different areas of the house, taking over the kitchen and supervision for herself, along with cleaning up from breakfast.

Rachel had been put on trash duty and was in the kitchen tying up the bags when Older Quinn swooped back into the room, clean and dressed in tight jeans and a loose, warm looking dark sweater. The younger diva wanted to laugh at the irony of seeing that the sweater had a whale on the front. She wished Young Quinn was there to see it.

The older blonde kissed the older brunette goodbye properly, and this time Rachel watched without regret, but still with the tight feeling of longing in her chest.

Alice, restless and irritated at being forced to clean windows until time to leave, pushed for the opportunity to get out of the house earlier than was really necessary. It was only a two hour drive to Columbus, but they left at ten with Older Rachel’s credit card and a warning to drive carefully.

Rachel shrugged at the miffed glare Quinn was sending her from the stair well. She was supposed to be polishing the banister, so Rachel made a motion for her to get on with it and then laughed when the blonde flipped her off.

Alice kept the car silent until they were outside Lima city limits and then turned on the radio. They sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the music. It was the same oldies station from the day before, but Rachel didn’t know if Alice would be bothered by her singing along, so she didn’t.

“This is awkward,” Alice stated suddenly over the music when half an hour had passed in silence, causing Rachel to jump in surprise.

She glanced at the girl beside her and smiled nervously, clenching her hands tightly in her lap. She supposed that Quinn wasn’t the only one she needed to make more of an effort listening too. “We could talk.”

“I’m betting we don’t have anything in common.”

 “Tell me about yourself then. We could have a lot in common. I know you probably don’t talk to your parents about hobbies often. I mean, I love Broadway, everyone knows that. But I have other interests to.”

Alice sighed and turned the music down to a quiet hum.

“My name is Alice Qywen Fabray. Yes my middle name is the same as my Momma’s, no it’s not spelled the same. It means ‘bird’ in Vietnamese or something. I don’t know. I’m convinced that my parents are insane and nothing can cure them.” She paused as she checked her wing mirror and switched lanes. “I’m seventeen, my favorite color is light blue. I desperately want to go to France for spring break but I doubt my moms are going to let me. I don’t have time for a job in between Cheerios and Glee and all my dance stuff so I can’t earn the money on my own. Most of it goes to the birds anyway.”

“It’s interesting that you’re middle name means ‘bird’ and you like birds.”

“I like that they can just fly away and be free. We all have a thing about flying or the sky, actually. It’s kind of weird. I mean, you and your gold stars, Momma and her owls, Morgan loves dandelions, Carmen worships the moon, my birds and Alex’s planes. Shannon’s the only one that’s grounded I guess. She’s like roots.”

“What do you plan to study in college? Rachel said you were the first to not want Juilliard.”

“Political Science.”

“Wow, do you want to be a lawyer?”

“Yes, kind of. I don’t know, I might change my mind.”

“Tell me something interesting about you.”

“What? Nothing I’ve said so far interests you?”

“No I didn’t mean-“ Alice cut her off with laughter and Rachel pouted. “That was mean.”

The cheerleader just smiled and carried on as if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “I have no sense of smell.”

“What?”

“Well I do, but it’s extremely weak. That skunk we passed awhile back? I barely smelled it and it didn’t really smell bad.”

“I apologize, but that is incredibly odd.”

Alice shrugged and smiled. “I have terrible eyesight too. My contact subscription is ridiculous.” She was quiet for a moment but then she bounced in her seat. “Oh! I’m also allergic to bees, shellfish, and spinach.”

“Spinach?”

“Yeah, it sucks too cause I love spinach. I eat it anyway sometimes and just deal with my mouth breaking out.”

“Ouch,” Rachel murmured, covering her mouth at the thought.

“I have really terrible acne that I have to take medication for.”

The look of sympathetic horror on Rachel’s face made Alice chuckle.

“And now we know that my mom is an alcoholic and drug addict, so I have that to worry about too.”

“Quinn has terrible genes,” she said finally.

“Rethinking having her kid or something?” Alice asked with a pout.

“No! I really like you.”

“Thanks,” the cheerleader replied sardonically. “I guess I don’t have to worry about you keeping me around then.”

“You remind me a lot of Quinn. Your brother and sister remind me more of me.”

“Well I’m the only one that’s really Quinn’s. I mean, biologically.”

“Do you mind talking about that? I’ve wondered about it, but it’s kind of a delicate subject.”

“Momma had all of the kids except me. Mom had me.” She paused and switched lanes again, preparing to take an exit. “We all have the same donor.”

“Do you know who your donor is?”

“Yeah, we met him a few times. His name is Sam Evans, apparently you went to school with him for a year and he looks a lot like Momma. I guess that’s true, except Momma dies her hair. Otherwise though…”

“Sam Evans?” Rachel didn’t know what to think. On the logical side, Sam was very handsome and fit. He was athletic, and an all around nice guy. He had never been mean to her like the other kids at school, and had even agreed to Prom with her (and Mercedes). Illogically, she was jealous. Violently jealous. Quinn (because it had to have been Quinn’s idea) had talked her into having babies with her ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah. He’s a paranormal investigator or something. Has a television show and everything.”

“Oh my God.”

Alice giggled and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he sends the best birthday presents though.”

The younger girl keeps talking about funny stories of Sam and his job, and the way she talks about him like a sort of weird uncle makes her jealousy wane a little.

**QFRB**

Columbus is no New York City, but in comparison to Lima it might as well be. There is more visual evidence of being in the future in the city, cars that actually look like space ships, teen boys on hover boards, holographic advertisements that walk around and speak to people. It was mind boggling to look at, but Alice drove slowly and laughed at Rachel’s excited pointing.

They ended up arriving too early to wait at the airport, so they picked up the tofurkey and bummed around the mall eating lunch. Rachel was again awed that there were so many vegan friendly options available. In her own time there were a few scattered around the city, but in the future it was like stepping into a kind of Mecca.

The airport was large and crowded, but they were both adept at navigating such spaces and quickly found seats in the arrivals area.

They only had to wait ten minutes before Carmen’s plane arrived and Alice took to scanning the crowd while Rachel kept her eyes on the tabloid she had snatched up at the market when they got the tofurkey.

“And there’s Carmen.”

Rachel looked up, following Alice’s line of sight and staring through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to spot her, because it was very much like looking in a mirror.

The young woman was strutting toward them with a disinterested expression on her face and an attitude that suggested she ruled the world. She was carrying an expensive looking hand bag in one well manicured hand, and a pair of designer sunglasses in the other.

Alice stood as she drew nearer and Rachel mimicked the action, attempting to keep from glancing anxiously between the two girls.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and Alice was radiating irritation.

Carmen stopped in front of them, cocked her hip and looked down at Rachel (she was about an inch taller, so there wasn’t much to work with), sucking on her teeth briefly before turning to her younger sister. “What the fuck is going on?”

**QFRB**

_All we need is a little bit of momentum_ __  
Breakdown these walls that we've built around ourselves  
All we need is a little bit of inertia  
Breakdown and tell  
breakdown and tell


	7. Satellite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't even remember what happens in this one

_I should just get on with it and_ __  
say the things I meant to say  
For so long  
Bit my tongue till I tasted blood  
I don't want to lose control  
I'm on the edge of my seat  
I can feel my heart skip a beat

**QFRB**

Alice looked around at the heavy crowd passing by them before replying. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you about it in the car.”

Carmen considered this for a moment, glancing between Alice and Rachel as she did so. She let her dark brown eyes linger over the younger form of her mother before glancing back at her sister.

“Hand over the keys.”

“What? No way.”

“You better, before I start a scene.”

Alice glared at Carmen of a long moment, and the older girl just stared triumphantly back at her little sister, hip still cocked and arrogant attitude all the more tangible.

“I hate you,” the cheerleader informed her even as she slapped the car keys into Carmen’s extended hand.

“Join the club.”

It was quite easy to say that Carmen was not very nice. In fact, she was kind of a bitch. Her attitude alone declared that loud in clear. It was confusing to Rachel, because she wasn’t the same type of bitch that she was used to seeing in Quinn and Santana. The two cheerleaders were very much about image and control.

And controlling their image.

No, Carmen wasn’t about that. She was a diva, her aura radiated it. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for her, mountains bowed down, but not out of fear. Out of awe.

She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it, and if she didn’t get it, there would be hell to pay. Rachel knew this because she knew herself, and Carmen was a lot like her. Somehow though, she felt like Carmen was probably more extreme.

They stopped briefly by the luggage carousel for Carmen to pick up her small dufflebag and then headed straight to the car. Alice refused to sit in the front with her sister, so Rachel was given the pleasure of shotgun. The doors had barely closed before Carmen rounded on her.

“Who are you, Face Stealer?”

Rachel felt that complete and straightforward honesty would be her best bet. “My name is Rachel Berry, I’m from the past.”

Carmen didn’t agree. Her brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Shut up and tell the truth.” Rachel didn’t reply immediately. “Well?”

“How can I tell the truth and also remain silent?”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Creepy Doppelganger.”

“She really is from the past. Mom and Momma both said they remember it happening,” Alice contributed petulantly from the back seat.

Carmen narrowed her eyes further, until they were just slits, and gave Rachel a thorough look over. “Prove it.”

“Gladly. How would you like me to do so?”

At this Carmen set back with a furrow in her brow. “Give me a minute.”

“You could just call Mom, ya know. She’s off work today,” Alice suggested when Carmen’s minute turned in to three.

Carmen either ignored her or didn’t hear her, but her next actions were to pull her cell phone out of her fancy designer purse. “I’ll just call Mom. She’ll tell me what’s going on.”

Alice rolled her eyes so hard that Rachel was a little worried they’d get stuck like that.

The conversation between mother and daughter was mostly one-sided, and that side was not Carmen’s. The drama student was apparently a little meeker when confronted with the older woman. Even though they were interacting through the phone, Carmen’s posture had shifted and cowed a little.

Older Rachel cleared up any of Carmen’s questions with very few prompts from her daughter. Her responses were all short and usually cut off on the other end of the line by more chatter from Older Rachel. When she said goodbye after several long minutes of stilted conversation, she ended the call with a forceful exhalation and a shake of her head.

“So…” for the first time since they met Rachel saw Carmen look unsure. She was sure that wasn’t something that happened often. “You really are my mom when she was young?”

“That is correct.”

“This is weird.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Alice muttered from the back seat.

Again she was ignored in favor of starting the car. “That’s really very interesting. Time travel. Not as interesting as me, of course, but definitely up there in the top ten.”

“I suppose,” Rachel responded when Carmen looked at her expectantly. “So, you’ve been away at Juilliard,” she prompted after a beat of silence. It’s the perfect opening and the other girl leaps on it.

Carmen loved attention and while Rachel did too, she’s more than happy to be hearing about Juilliard from her future child’s perspective. Rachel had a sneaking suspicion that Carmen wouldn’t have anything to talk about other than her time at school. She spent the two hour drive from Columbus informing both the girls about the ins and outs of her life at the music school. Rachel ate it up and Alice just rolled her eyes and lamented that she hadn’t brought any headphones. Instead she had to suffer through an endless one sided conversation about things she couldn’t care less about.

Alice sprawled out in the backseat and played with her phone. Rush Hour was really mind numbing and would probably help pass the time.

**QFRB**

“What exit do I take?” Carmen asked suddenly, breaking off in the middle of telling them about something one of her roommates had done. “Did I pass it?”

“No,” Rachel replied. “I think it’s the next one.”

At this news she swerved suddenly across two lanes of traffic, cutting off several people in the process and sending Rachel and Alice’s hearts into their throats.

“WING MIRRORS!” Alice shrieked, holding tightly to the door and slamming her right foot against the floor board as if she had an extra brake.

“I don’t use rearview mirrors,” Carmen told them calmly, not even ruffled by the angry blaring of horns behind her, and not concerned with the fragile state of her passengers. “I thought about using them once, but then I realized that all of the things behind me didn’t matter. I’m ahead, I’m better than that.”

“You realize,” Alice raged, “that you are _insane,_ right!?”

Carmen just shrugged her sister’s comment away and kept her gaze focused on the road in front of her. Rachel had been correct about the next exit, and Carmen didn’t slow down one little bit as she took it. Though Lima wasn’t very big, and Carmen had lived there for three years, she still had to be guided around until they reached the residential area that the Fabray house was located in.

The car had barely rolled to a stop before Carmen had torn out of it, leaving her bag in the car with her passengers, and up the walk. Rachel and Alice followed at a much slower pace, the cheerleader with an expression of disdain.

“Why do you hate your sister?”

Alice’s face contorted with a familiar look of rage. Rachel had seen in directed at her countless times from Quinn. The resemblance was really uncanny. “I don’t hate her. She’s just a self-centered, arrogant, ungrateful bitch that gets everything she wants and she doesn’t care who has to roll over and get pissed on as long as she gets it.” She sighed and put her hands on her hips, in another unconscious mirror of her mother. “I love her, cause she’s my sister, and I would give her a kidney in a second. I just don’t like her very much. She’s never actually acted like she cares much for me either. Just treats me like I’m a jealous little kid. And, ok, sometimes I’m a little jealous of how easy everything is for her, but I do legitimately think she’s an asshole most of the time.”

“Maybe I should stay with you instead of her. Our personalities seem similar, but I’m far less likely to try and dominate you like an older sister would. We might also prevent bloodshed that way.”

“Would you? Please?”

“Yes, I think so. It would be best.”

They entered the house (Carmen had left the front door wide open) just as Shannon came pelting down the stairs and then past them, into the living room to jump on her eldest sister. Quinn had followed the little girl down at a much slower pace, but didn’t leave the stairs. She sat on the lowest step and peered around the railings to see the scene in the living room. Rachel felt her heart speed up just at the sight of her. It was a common reaction, something she was definitely used to after years of knowing the girl. But she suddenly had a new frame of reference for it. Before, she had just assumed that her racing heart was caused by fear or anxiety. Now she attributed it to something else entirely.

Alice split off from Rachel and joined her family.

Rachel didn’t join the others in greeting Carmen, as she had spent two hours in her presence already. Instead, she approached Quinn on the stairs and sat beside her, heart hammering painfully against her bones. They watched the family interact in silence and Rachel was thankful for the time to calm down. Carmen was talking a mile a minute in between hugs to her two youngest siblings and Older Rachel. Alice had thrown herself across the overstuffed arm chair and was watching with a mildly irritated scowl.

“Wow,” Quinn commented finally when they heard Carmen launch into a story of her own excellence, “she’s just like you, except more self-absorbed. I honestly didn’t know that could happen.”

“Don’t be mean,” Rachel pouted. It was playful though, she could tell that Quinn had just been teasing her.

“Just being honest.”

“Well, since we’re being honest, I’m mad at you.”

When Quinn chuckled in that raspy, sexy way it made Rachel’s knees feel a little weak. “For being honest? If anything I should be mad at you. I had to stay around and clean this entire place while you got to skip town. And the older you is a slave driver.”

“No, for somehow talking me in to having _Sam_ be the sperm donor for the children. Also, you just called me a slave driver.”

Internally, Quinn shuffled through several emotions in quick succession, confusion, embarrassment, horror, amusement, irritation, and adoration circling several times before she settled firmly on amusement. Because Rachel being angry over her ex-boyfriend being the sperm donor for their future children, that was hilarious. Externally, her face remained completely blank except for a slight widening of her eyes.

“What makes you think I would want my ex to father our children? That sounds like some crazy idea you would come up with. And I was talking about the other you, not you you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all. I barely know Sam.” She jerked her head a little, her brain finally processing all that had been said. “You just called me crazy too. You’re digging a deeper hole for yourself Ms. Fabray.”

“Can we stop talking about sperm donors? It’s weird. I feel pressured, you haven’t even asked me to marry you yet and we’re already talking about children. Sperm donors now, baby names this morning. I want a ring first.”

Rachel couldn’t help laughing, because Quinn was funny, and a little absurd. “There’s no way I’m the one that’s going to propose first.”

Quinn laughed mirthlessly and fixed Rachel with a pointed stare. “Think again. If I’m pushing four of your kids out of me, you will be the one to pop the question.”

“So you just want me for the material positions my large paychecks from staring Broadway plays will get me, hmm?”

“How did you even get that out of what I just said?”

“Never you mind,” Rachel lectured with a haughty glance. “You’re signing a pre-nup.”

Quinn gasped in shock. She knew, realistically, that they were just playing around, but she was still a little offended. Rachel laughed loudly enough that they drew attention away from Carmen in the other room. Quinn waved off the concerned glances.

When Rachel’s full body laughter turned into quiet giggles, she looped her arm around Quinn’s and leaned her head on the blonde’s shoulder. Quinn bit her lip and tried to remain calm, but her whole body felt like it was buzzing, like her skin was just going to fly off at any second. Rachel shifted and Quinn had to contain a whimper when the brunette’s forehead touched the side of her jaw. Words wanted to escape her mouth, so she switched her biting from lip to tongue, and bore down hard enough for it to hurt.

“I like this,” Rachel whispered after a moment. Talking louder would have ruined the feeling. “Us, being friends. It’s nice.”

Quinn just nodded.

A weird tension pushed through the narrow space between them at the pronouncement. Quinn wasn’t entirely sure what it was over either. She took a moment to think, stubbornly trying to cling to the comfort that they had shared so recently. It was possible that the tension came from the simple fact that they knew they wouldn’t be friends in this future. They were so much more than friends and it was frightening.

Quinn couldn’t even fathom how much she would have given to enter this future and find that she had married Finn or Puck or Sam, or any bland boring man for that matter. Any man that she could have manipulated to her purpose. It would have been so comforting to find that her attraction to Rachel was either a phase or something that easily went away with distance and time.

Comforting. Comfortable. Easy. Boring.

Nothing like being with Rachel would be.

 “So you’ve just been cleaning all day?” Rachel asked when the tension had almost reached a stifling level; Quinn breathed a grateful little sigh.

“Mostly. I’ve been babysitting Shannon for the last hour though ‘cause she was starting to whine.” She shifted back, closer again so their hips were touching. “Older Rachel went shopping after lunch and came back with entirely too much food.”

“What did you do with Shannon? She wanted to play Barbies with me.”

Quinn chuckled. “I think I saved you some trouble then. We played with her collection for a while. She has entirely too many. There’s this huge dollhouse up there too. It has working lights and real porcelain bathtubs and hand carved little dolls.”

“Real carpet?”

“Yes!”

“You sound jealous.”

“I am! I love doll houses. She said I helped her build it.”

“Wow. So you’re handy too.”

“I guess.”

“And you wear contacts.”

Quinn flushed and looked down at her knees. “Irrelevant to this conversation.”

“Be careful, you might start speaking like I do,” Rachel teased, bumping the blonde’s shoulder with her own. She bit her lip and contemplated what she wanted to say next. Her truce with the other time traveler was tentative and based solely on the fact that they wouldn’t remember anything that was happening. She wasn’t really sure what Quinn would deem acceptable behavior.  Older Quinn’s assurances from the day before that she had always liked Rachel are just empty words without actions to back them up. Quinn had been tentative and shy that morning. They’d had their mildly flirtatious banter, currently and earlier that morning, but would outright flirtation be permitted? “I understand why you wouldn’t want to wear glasses while you were on the Cheerios, but they look very flattering on you.”

 _Honestly, that’s the best you’ve got?_ She berated mentally as soon as it escaped her mouth. _You’ve told her she’s beautiful a thousand times._

Quinn was not at all upset with the compliment. In fact she flushed so red that Rachel nearly panicked, fearing she had said something to make her angry. But the blonde wasn’t anywhere approaching angry. She was on the opposite shore, riding the waves of ecstatic mixed with a little hopefulness.

She didn’t get compliments often, but when she did it was never about something she considered completely hers.

_“You have such nice hair Quinn.”  Thanks, I dye it._

_“You’re so thin and athletic.” Thanks, I’m on a crazy diet and have to work out twice as hard as a normal person._

_“You’re so popular.” Thanks, most of the time I feel like complete shit because I have no real friends._

_“You’re so pretty.” Thanks, you probably would have made fun of me just like everyone else._

No one had ever told her she looked good in glasses. Most people didn’t know she needed contacts. Santana and Brittany did, but she had never worn her glasses around them. When they used to have sleepovers she would wear her contacts until the absolute last second and then would keep them under her pillow while she slept so she could put them right back in in the morning.

“I…thank you.”

“Of course.”

They sat there for at least another hour, sometimes in silence, listening to Carmen and Older Rachel talking over each other and sharing stories, other times laughing over little commentaries that the blonde would make. Whenever Rachel would rock into her, Quinn’s heart would rattle around in her ribs like an animal trying to escape, and when Quinn would playfully smack her leg Rachel could feel buzzing tingles all over her skin. They both thought they might burst open. They both bit back phrases and truths that were too strong for the moment.

_Your hair looks really soft. I want to touch it._

_I like it when you laugh like that._

_I want to kiss you._

Older Quinn’s arrival was both a blessing and an embarrassment. It gave them something else to focus on, besides their hummingbird heartbeats, but the older blonde’s smile at seeing them together on the bottom step of the stairs was loaded with unspoken humor. The broke away, almost guiltily.

The older blonde didn’t get an opportunity to unleash her rapier wit on them before Shannon bounced into the hallway and then pounced once she saw who had walked through the door.

“It’s Momma!” she screeched over her shoulder.

“Inside voices, Ninja,” Older Quinn reprimanded gently and with an expression that said she wasn’t really expecting much. She finger waved at the time travelers and then hauled herself through to the living area, Shannon still firmly attached to her front.

Older Rachel approached her immediately and they greeted each other with a sweet kiss, their youngest child trapped between their bodies. Young Rachel couldn’t help wanting that, she also couldn’t help taking Quinn’s hand between hers and holding it reverently. Quinn smiled at her and she smiled back. It was awkward, but it was nice too and Quinn didn’t pull away.

“Wow, Momma,” Carmen commented, drawing Older Quinn’s attention to her and away from her wife, “you need to get to the salon soon.”

“Wonderful to see you too.”

“I love you,” she charmed, smiling widely. “I like your ridiculous sweater.”

Older Quinn rolled her eyes and beckoned the girl to her. “Come on, you’re helping with dinner.”

“I really must protest!” Carmen argued even as she stood and approached her mother.

“You have no choice,” Quinn rebutted even as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug and ruffled her hair. She laughed at the squawk Carmen released. “Especially since you made fun of my sweater. And I’ve missed having my precious baby help me.” Young Rachel noticed Alice rolling her eyes on the other side of the room. “I’ve got an AA meeting at 7, so we’re just going to make something quick.”

“What are we having?” Alex asked.

The phone ringing in the kitchen interrupted her briefly, but her wife offered to go get it, ruffling her short hair affectionately. Young Rachel pulled the younger blonde up off the step and into the living room so they could join the dinner discussion.

“Quinn!” Older Rachel called from the kitchen, “Beth’s on the line.”

“Yay! Beth!” Shannon cheered, storming out of the room happily.

Older Quinn froze momentarily, cutting her glance to her younger self, who had stalled by the couch, arm looped with Younger Rachel’s. She didn’t have time to think or comfort the younger blonde. “Coming. Put her on speaker.”

Younger Quinn felt like every bit of air had be forcefully removed from her lungs, like something heavy had been dropped on her chest. Beth. Her baby. Tears welled up in her eyes at just the thought of her. She thought of Beth every day, had thought of her in passing just that morning, but she had completely forgot that Beth would be an adult in this time. Forgotten that she could be married and have her own family.

“Quinn,” the whisper of breath over her ear scared her several inches off the ground. She turned her wild eyes to Rachel to find an intensity shining back at her from the brown depths. “I know you’re hurting right now,” she continued, fast and so quietly that she had to strain to hear, “but we have to go into the kitchen with the rest of them.” Quinn could barely understand her, she was so muddled, and their faces were close, she could see the individual fibers in her eyes. It reminded her of something she’d read about how there were branches of science that said different areas of the eyes reflected different areas of the body, like reflexology. She was so caught up in this remembrance that she didn’t answer for a moment. “Shannon might notice and it would be odd.”

Quinn nodded absently and allowed Rachel to steer her through to the kitchen, just behind a disinterested Alice. They entered the room just in time to catch the beginning of the conversation. Older Quinn was leaning on the counter over the phone with Older Rachel hovering beside her. Carmen took up the place on her other side, her head on her mother’s shoulder. Shannon had forced herself in front of them, flat against the front of the counter. Alex and Alice were less invasive; they both stood several feet away, Alex looking interested and comfortable and Alice’s expression dark.

“Beth, hi.”

Younger Quinn was coiled tighter than a spring, her whole frame nearly shaking with the tension. Young Rachel rubbed her back in what she hoped was a soothing manner, but she couldn’t tell if it helped. Quinn showed no outward sign of improvement. When Beth’s voice came over the speaker, slightly distorted, Quinn’s knees buckled a little and Rachel had to hold her up. “Hey, Quinn, Tin wants to talk to you real quick.”

“Sure, put him on.”

A small teary voice replaced Beth’s. “GRANDMA! Grandma Quinn!” The younger Quinn flinched against Rachel, nearly knocking their heads together. She was in contact with Beth, they were close enough that a phone call wasn’t unusual, and she was a grandmother. Her poor heart felt like it was being squeezed.

“Aww, Tinny, why are you crying?”

“I-I found a p-puppy. But my d-daddy said it was mangy and he s-shot it!”

“You poor baby. I’m sorry.”

The little boy on the other line sniffled pathetically. “Will you get me a puppy for my next birthday?”

“I will not. You have to talk to your parents about that.”

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I can’t send a puppy through the mail.”

“Oh.”

Quinn dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe you should ask your Grandma Shelby. I bet she would get you a puppy.”

Tinny gasped in happiness. “You’re right. I’ll ask her. Bye Grandma Quinn!”

Quinn didn’t get a chance to reply before the little boy had handed the phone off to his mother with a muffled “here you go, Mommy.”

“He neglected to tell you that it was a coyote pup.” Quiet chuckles stumbled around the room and Young Quinn inhaled sharply. Rachel rubbed her hands up and down the blonde’s arms. She hesitated for a moment and then wrapped her arms loosely around the other girl’s waist, just in case she felt trapped and wanted loose. “Anyway, just wanted to call and tell all of you to have a happy Thanksgiving.”

All of the Fabray’s replied with a “Happy Thanksgiving”, Alice much less enthusiastically than the others.

When the dial tone sounded Young Quinn pulled out of Rachel’s hold and bolted. The other’s watched her leave with an awkward tension. Young Rachel was set to follow her, along with Older Quinn, but Older Rachel beat them to it.

“You start dinner, I’ll go see what’s wrong,” she said for Shannon’s benefit.

**QFRB**

The door to Morgan’s room opened without a knock and Quinn rolled over on the bed so she was facing the door.

She had expected someone to follow her, really. She hadn’t expected it to be the older Rachel. They hadn’t been alone together since she had arrived in the future, and she was honestly a little nervous to be trapped in a room with her. It didn’t help when the older version of the girl she had harbored a secret love for sat on the bed and ran a comforting hand over her shoulder.

She didn’t speak, which kind of freaked the blonde out a little more, but it was also a relief.

They sat in silence together for several minutes, Quinn with her hands pressed hard over her stomach, something that had become a nervous habit after the baby was born, when before it had been something she did whenever she thought of the little creature rolling around inside her.

When she did speak it was quiet and soothing, the classic bossy, lecture-like speech was gone. She held up an old book for Quinn to see. “Quinn’s Bible, your Bible. I thought you might like to look through it while you’re here.”

She placed the book on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” Quinn whispered.

Rachel smiled sweetly at her and moved her hand from the blonde’s arm to her hair. Quinn’s eyes fluttered closed happily. The woman’s hand was soft and cool, her short nails scratching lightly against her scalp. The blonde hummed with pleasure.

“Is she happy?” she asked finally in a small voice.

“Yes, as far as I can tell. She had a happy childhood and now she’s married to a lovely man named James and they have two children, Tin and Aaron.”

“Tin’s a weird name,” Quinn muttered, leaning further into Rachel’s touch.

The older woman chuckled softly. “It’s short for Quentin.”

Quinn didn’t freeze in shock like she would have expected, in fact she relaxed further, sinking into the softness of the bed. “Have I met her. Like in person.”

“Yes, several times. I met her before you did, when I was visiting Shelby one day. She looks just like you. Except when she looks just like Puck.”

“Does she…is she okay with what I did?”

“She’s very well adjusted. She understands where you were coming from, and she relates to you kind of like an aunt or a much older sister. Shelby is very much her mother though.”

Quinn nodded to show she had heard.

Rachel seemed to understand that she was done talking and she stood, giving the young blonde one more pet before moving away to the door. “Supper should be ready soon. Don’t stay up here too long.”

When a length of time had passed Quinn pulled herself away from the bed and went down stairs. She found Older Rachel and Quinn in the kitchen, standing close with their foreheads together and trading soft kisses.

**QFRB**

Just as they were all sitting down to dinner there was a commotion in the front hall. Older Rachel and Quinn cast worried glances at each other before the older diva got up and moved to check out the noise. Older Quinn wasn’t far behind and when the children heard a squeal of happiness from Older Rachel they scrambled to make it to the hallway. Even Carmen looked a little ruffled when they all packed in quickly.

Morgan stood in the door way, his suitcase next to him on the ground and a worn gray fedora in his left hand. He smiled mildly at his mothers and then opened his arms wide.

Rachel wasted no time running into her son’s embrace and Morgan loved the drama of it. He picked her up and spun around a few times, tucking his head down to rest on top of hers. “I’ve missed you Mommy,” he told her when her feet hit the floor again.

“And what about me?” Older Quinn demanded.

Morgan let go of Rachel and turned his dark gaze to Quinn. “Sorry,” he said after a moment of contemplation, “I’ve got nothing.”

“You little shit, come hug me before I take you over my knee.”

“Empty threats,” Morgan chuckled but did as bid without complaint. “Sorry I’m late,” he muttered against her shoulder.

“You should be, dinner is probably cold.”

“A travesty,” he agreed. “I’ll pay with my flesh if you like.”

“That’s gross, Mo,” Shannon informed him as she ran forward to catch him about the waist.

“My apologies, little lady.”

He went around the circle of family, doling out hugs and kisses, along with a firm handshake for his little brother. Alex tried to be tough, but ended up hugging him anyway. When he came to Young Rachel and Quinn, Older Quinn was suddenly beside him whispering in his ear. He nodded and kept his smile even.

“Wow, Charlie! Barbie! You guys have grown so much. I hardly recognize you.” He hugged them both, giving them a charming wink when he pulled away and then announced that he was starving.

Morgan Fabray was named after Morgan Freeman. The man might have given up his cab to Quinn Fabray when she went into labor just as they were both leaving the same fancy dinner party. Rachel and Quinn Fabray had planned on naming him Lucas, but they weren't the types to ignore a sign from God.

At least, that's what they told him. Morgan was never really sure if they were just fucking with him or not. That was the trouble with having sarcastic parents. They could go years letting their children believe things that weren’t true.

Older Quinn and Rachel just laughed at his retelling of it, neither confirming nor denying it, the brunette reprimanding him gently for his language around his little sister. Shannon had giggled cutely when the young man had apologized with a kiss to the back of her hand.

“So, Mo, what happened with that audition you had a few weeks ago?” Older Quinn asked. Older Rachel’s face broke into a dazzling and expectant smile.

Morgan smiled sadly and looked down at his plate. “I didn’t get it.”

The smile on Older Rachel’s face slipped away. She reached for her son and ran a comforting hand over his shoulder. “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Morgan nodded and bit his lower lip.

“There are other parts,” Older Quinn added in a consoling voice. Morgan nodded again.

He looked up and he’s eyes were shining. “I got the lead.”

Rachel’s hand on his shoulder stilled. “What?”

“I didn’t get the part I tried out for. I got the lead role.”

The sentence was barely out of his mouth before Rachel had his face pressed to her chest and he was flailing, trying to stay in his chair. It didn’t work out well, the chair tipped and he ended up on his knees next to his mother, still held firmly to her.

Across the table Quinn was roaring with laughter. “You little sneak.” She left her seat and joined the violent hug on the floor.

“You’re going to be in a real Hollywood movie?” Alex asked with excitement shining all over his face. “You’re going to be famous and meet stars, just like Mom?”

Morgan didn’t have much room to answer, so he just flashed his little brother a thumbs up.

At seven, Older Quinn left for her AA meeting with a promise to be back in time to read that night. Rachel had Alice and Alex clearing up the super dishes while she took Morgan and Carmen into the family room to talk about his upcoming role in more depth. Younger Rachel followed without thinking about it, Shannon hoping along behind her.

Quinn found herself alone at the table. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She still wasn’t feeling too great, and as much as she liked Morgan, she had a feeling that being in a room with five Rachel Berry personalities would be entirely too insane for her to handle.

She thought about the Bible that Older Rachel had handed her earlier and decided that the tattered book would be a good distraction.

**QFRB**

The leather of the cover was soft and worn, all four corners tipped with gold tabs, and the monogram in the bottom right corner read L.J. Huskin in gold script. It was very old. The condition of the cover was a big hint, but when she opened the front cover and saw that several people had written in it over the years, and the original date it had been gifted, she got a feeling that she was holding an heirloom.

_To Lillian Young on the day of her marriage to C.F. Huskin, June 18, 1948._

_May the Lord look favorably on you._

_Olen P Young_

There were other notes after that. The Bible had been passed on to a Maria Roylan in 1974, and then to Marci Roylan in 1994, and then to Amanda S. Roylan in 2009.

_Amanda. I think someone mentioned that she was one of Rachel’s roommates._

If it was the same Amanda, she had clearly given it to Quinn. She had written a long note at the bottom of the page in small cramped letters in an effort to make it all fit.

_I know you don’t know me well. We’ve only just met. But I can see that you’re struggling with more than just your jitters. I’m giving this to you because it was important in my quest to find myself and I think it can help you in the same way it did me. I’ve left all of my notes in it. Every single thing I’ve written and worked out and every map I’ve drawn. The notes are just as important as the rest of the book. Sometimes you have to look at things differently that you were taught to. Happy New Year Quinn. Maybe this gift can help make a Happy New Quinn too._

That explained all the bits of paper that stuck out of the top at different areas.

She opened the book to the first marked page at the very beginning of Genesis. Amanda had written quite a bit in her cramped handwriting. There were references to other works, drawings, bulleted lists, translations to Hebrew and back again, and even little maps. Some of her ideas and conclusions were almost too radical for Quinn to even understand, like drawing evolutionary science into the creation story in a way that the blonde had never even heard of.

Her father had liked to point out the flaws in evolutionary science with very weak (in retrospect) points about the time frame given in the Bible. Quinn had always been a little skeptical about his belief in Creationism. Amanda had even brought attention to those ideas, along with other theories she had heard about in passing. She had written them all out in bullets under the heading FAITH STATEMENTS.

An entire page of her notes was filled with thoughts on gender and its creation.

She felt like her head was spinning and she didn’t even make it out of the story of creation.

A knock on the door was all the warning she received before the door swung open to reveal her older self in the door way, grinning and calm and looking nothing like Quinn thought someone would look after talking about their addiction for the past two hours.

“Hey, I knew you would be up here.”

“I think I’m going to make an effort to be less smug and superior in the future, it’s a really unflattering look for me.”

Older Quinn just laughed. “Having fun with my Bible?”

“It’s interesting,” she replied with a casual shrug.

“Well put it away for a while. We’re going to read about witchcraft now.”

“What?”

“It’s Harry Potter tonight. That means full on house pride around here.” She paused and tossed a blue shirt at her. “We’re in Ravenclaw.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Quinn commented absently, busy examining the shirt she had been leant.

“I know you haven’t read it yet. You’ll get the chance in college. You’re going to love it.”

**QFRB**

Older Quinn had been absolutely right about Younger Quinn loving Harry Potter. They hadn’t even started in the beginning, but somewhere in the middle of the fourth book, and she had been massively confused for a little while, but she had pulled through and been charmed by the characters. She wanted to read all of it now, one right after the other without stopping.

It had also been interesting to see the Fabrays argue over houses. Both Rachel’s and Carmen had worn green Slytherin shirts, Quinn and her older counterpart had worn the blue Ravenclaw shirts along with Alice. Both Alex and Shannon had donned red Gryffindor shirts and had been subjected to hisses from the Slytherin supporters. Only Morgan had worn a yellow Hufflepuff shirt.

The hour had been much like the previous night’s. Older Quinn had read until Shannon was nearly asleep, they had all been treated to cookies (shaped like lightning bolts), and they had all sat in silence once the actual reading had started. One of the main differences, for Young Quinn and Rachel anyway, had been the seating arrangement. It was apparent that Carmen would not be relinquishing her seat in the overstuffed armchair, which Young Quinn had commandeered the previous night, for any reason. She even demanded that Alex bring her cookies to her so she didn’t have to move.

Once the older blonde had deposited Shannon upstairs she had returned to find that Carmen had suggested watching home movies and Morgan had immediately backed her up.

They had watched several already, many of them featuring young Carmen (and occasionally Morgan) doing cute things. The girl had made it a habit to say “even as a baby I was a star. The camera loved me.”

Older Quinn had apparently had enough of Carmen’s ego for the night though, and insisted on pulling out a few older boxes full of DVDs that were made while she and Rachel were in college.

She had pulled Younger Quinn along to look through them too. She found one with the title We Have Stolen Cameron’s Camera in bright red marker and pulled it out.

“What about this one?”

The older blonde hummed thoughtfully. “No good. That one’s the sex tape.”

Quinn dropped the disk like it was on fire and scooted away from it on her rear, not realizing until she was about ten feet away that the older her was snickering.

“Quinn,” Older Rachel reprimanded from the couch, “don’t be mean.” She turned her gaze on the younger blonde and smirked devilishly. “We keep the sex tapes upstairs. Don’t want the children stumbling across them.”

Older Quinn’s delighted laughter almost drowned out Carmen’s squeal of disgust. “This one is actually really good.” She flipped the disk and showed the title to Older Rachel. The brunette’s smirk slipped off her face.

“No! Not that one,” Rachel begged her wife, swiping fitfully at the disk being held out of her reach.

“Oh yes, we’re watching it.”

“What is it?” Younger Rachel asked.

“The story of Nugget,” Quinn snickered, tossing the disk to Alice to put in the player.

“This is gonna be great,” the cheerleader crowed.

The screen popped from blue to black and then a rather jumpy picture came in focus. It was Quinn, but a little older and tired looking. She was smiling though and looking up at the camera. There was a shift in the frame and the picture zoomed out to show that the blonde was sprawled out on a black couch.

“We have stolen Cameron’s camera,” Rachel’s disembodied voice narrated.

“Are you sure it’s Cameron’s? I thought it was Amanda’s,” Quinn protested quietly. Her voice was huskier, but not in a sexy way. More like she was recovering from a sore throat or was about to cough.

The camera turned quickly and they got a brief flash of Rachel’s perplexed face before it went right back to Quinn. “Nope, Cameron’s. The light works on his.”

Quinn shrugged.

“So what are we going to do with it?”

The blonde contemplated this for a moment. “Sex tape?” There was a smack and then a squeal from the Quinn on camera. “Hey! Ouch.”

“We’re going to play our game,” Rachel informed her.

Quinn scowled a little. “On camera? Why?”

“Added pressure,” she lectured.  “Also, someday when you have children they will see this and realize that you used to have fun.”

Quinn looked directly into the camera, no longer looking past it to Rachel. “It’s a stupid game, just turn the TV off now; spend your time in more productive ways.”

“You made the game up.”

“Doesn’t make it less stupid.”

“Don’t be a fun-sucker.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “You’re the battery to my flashlight.”

“You’re the sail to my boat.”

“You are…the friction to my match!”

Rachel snorted. “That was stupid.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Classy Ms. Fabray. You hang out with Amanda and D too much.”

Quinn reached up and tickled the girl hovering over her.

A mad giggle erupted from behind the camera.

“You must be stalling or something,” Quinn commented. “Can you not think of one?”

“You’re…the vegan butter substitute to my baked potato!”

Quinn laughed. “Seriously? You have to make it vegan friendly, really?”

“Of course. I know it makes you hot for me. Do yours or forfeit.”

Quinn snorted and looked away from the camera, her cheeks going a little pink before she looked back, bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re the cod to my ocean.”

A shout of laughter followed this pronouncement and the already shaky camera fell with a clatter. It was snatched up quickly and turned on the wildly giggling Rachel. She had fallen back onto the couch and was staring adoringly up at the camera that Quinn was now holding above her. Every time she seemed to gain composure she lost it again, muttering “you’re the cod to my ocean,” repeatedly and breaking into more giggles.

“Do you give up?”

The brunette gave a fitful shake of her head, sending her hair into a messy storm. When she again broke out in giggles, Quinn moved over her and snuck a vicious hand over the smaller woman’s ribs, tickling her mercilessly.

“Stop! Stop!” she cried through her laughter, her face turning redder as she struggled to breathe.

“Either say another one or forfeit!”

“Ok, ok,” she slapped the grasping hand away. “You’re the chicken to my nugget.”

The Quinn on camera wasn’t the only one laughing at that.

“Oh my God, I made you forget you’re a vegan!”

“You didn’t! I was pressured. You were rushing me!”

“I so did! Nugget!”

“No!” There was a scuffle and the camera clattered away. The screen went black but the sounds of fighting continued, as did Quinn’s gleeful cries of “nugget!”

“Jesus! What are y’all doing in here?” A third voice cut through the squeals and shouts. The camera was picked up from where it fell and the unidentified person focused it on the tangle of limbs that was Quinn and Rachel.

The tiny brunette had ended up under the blonde, all of their legs and arms locked in strange and mildly painful-looking contortions. They glanced at each other before Quinn looked back up at the camera.

“Sex tape?”

“Well you’re doing it wrong.” The camera cut out immediately after.

Amused giggles and chuckles had turned into full on laughing fits by the end of the video. The only one not really laughing was Rachel, and that was partly because she was being teased so mercilessly by Quinn’s fingers poking her along the ribs. She was trying to dodge most of the attacks and quickly batting away the ones she couldn’t.

They were thankfully interrupted before Rachel decided that tackling would be the best solution to ending her torment.

“Oh my God! Keep it in your pants for like, a minute, would you?” Carman exclaimed suddenly from her place draped across the overstuffed arm chair. Everyone’s eyes flew to her and then over to the couple on the couch when they saw her line of sight.

Rachel was on her back, head propped up on one of the couch arms and Quinn was lying on top of her, her head on the brunette’s chest. Rachel had her left hand thoroughly tangled in short blonde hair and Quinn’s right hand was rather obviously under Rachel’s shirt.

Older Quinn cracked open one eye, smirked, and pointedly moved her hand higher up until Older Rachel squeaked and smacked the hand that was moving around under her clothes. Quinn didn’t remove her hand. Instead she tilted her head up and nipped playfully at her wife’s chin.

Younger Rachel and Quinn, who had been sitting quite comfortably beside each other on the love seat both tensed and Rachel went so far as to scoot off of the piece of furniture and moved away to sit by Alex on the floor. They were getting closer and were friendly, and even mildly flirty with each other, but neither were exactly comfortable with the level of physical intimacy that was put on display.

“Seriously?” Carmen demanded. “While I have fully accepted that the two of you have sex, there are impressionable _kids_ in the room.” She looked pointedly in Alex and Young Rachel’s direction.

“It’s ok,” Alex piped up, looking between his sister and mothers. “I walked in on them actually doing the deed a few months ago, and even though I had to dedicate an entire session with Dr. Pifer to my reaction, I have come out relatively unscarred. In comparison, this is nothing.”

Carmen dramatically rolled her eyes, Alice giggled and Young Quinn and Rachel looked ill. The older blonde hummed happily and did something under her wife’s shirt to warrant another squeal and a sharp tug at her hair.

“He’s your son,” the blonde said with a chuckle.

“Yes well, she’s your daughter,” Older Rachel replied with equal affection.

“Oh gag,” Alice griped, moving from her spot on the floor in front of Carmen’s chair to Young Rachel’s vacated seat.

“Well I had to keep her distracted somehow!” Older Quinn defended.

When Morgan walked back into the room and saw the shift that had taken place he raised one eyebrow in silent question. Carmen scoffed. “You don’t want to know.”

“Put on another video,” Quinn ordered. “Last one though. It’s getting really late and I have to get this sexy lady into a bed soon.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Carmen groaned. Everyone ignored her. She huffed petulantly.

Alice flipped through a few more disks before she chose one. “This one has Sidewalk in it!”

“Sidewalk?” Younger Quinn asked.

“Our rotten old cat.”

“Don’t you talk mess about my cat,” Older Quinn ordered.

Her tone drew the attention of her younger counterpart. The younger blonde furrowed her brow in confusion. She remembered what Alice had said the previous evening about the family cat belonging to her, but it still confused her. She really hated cats. She didn’t get an opportunity to question her older form before the video started.

It cut in abruptly in what sounded like the middle of a conversation. A thin but fluffy grey cat was the focus. It was on its back, batting angrily at a young man’s fingers. The cat hissed and spat and the man laughed. He was handsome and thin, with short golden brown hair and squinty blue eyes. (“That’s Cameron,” Older Rachel told the time travelers.)

“Yeah, well, Quinn nearly bit my head off earlier ‘cause I pushed Sidewalk off the table.”

“All you have to do is get her fixed. Then she won’t be such a bitch anymore.” Cameron dangled his fingers just in front of the yowling cat’s face and then jerked them away when she lunged at him.

Behind the camera Amanda laughed. “Who? Quinn or the cat?”

Rachel’s feet marched through the frame, briefly blocking the sight of the fuzzy grey cat. “God, both. We could do with less drama around here. _One_ of them could be given away.” Once again visible, Sidewalk hissed at Rachel’s back, as if she understood what had just been said.

“Sidewalk was here first.”

“Yes, but Quinn speaks English.”

“I’m not getting rid of my cat. Quinn likes her too.”

“Whatever. If she bites me again I’m going to kick her.”

Amanda snickered. “Who? Quinn or the cat?”

“Both.”

Sidewalk hissed again and the screen went black.

Older Quinn had apparently been very serious about closing up shop after the last video. She shooed the Fabray children along with Rachel’s help, even Morgan wasn’t spared, despite his whining that he was “a grown up.”

Younger Quinn and Rachel were the last go up the stairs, silent and shy, but standing close enough that Quinn’s shoulder would bump the brunette every few steps.

Rachel came to a halt outside Alice’s room. “This is me.”

“Thought you were staying in Carmen’s room.”

The brunette nodded. “I was but I switched so they wouldn’t kill each other.”

“They kind of remind me of some people I know,” Quinn mentioned with a smirk.

“Yeah, me too.”

They both giggled.

“Except, you know…sisters.”

“Yeah.”

They both stared and shuffled for a moment.

“Um…goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

Neither of them moved and after a moment of hesitation Rachel asked, “Do you mind if…can I hug you?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

There was more awkward shuffling before Quinn swooped in and loosely wrapped her arms around the smaller girl’s shoulders. Rachel responded immediately with her arms around the blonde’s waist, pressing the whole front of her body to the other girl’s. Quinn felt her cheeks warm at the feeling.

They pulled away after several long seconds and smiled bashfully at each other.

“Ok so,” Quinn broke in finally, “goodnight. Again.” She began to back away.

“Right, night.” Rachel sent her one more small smile, then bit her lip and disappeared into Alice’s room.

Quinn waited for the click of the latch before allowing her small smile to blossom into a full on beaming grin that split her face from ear to ear. She turned and made her way down the hall, thrusting a triumphant fist in the air. It almost didn’t matter that it was a sin; Rachel Berry had totally just hugged her.

**QFRB**

_Would you be my satellite_ __  
Would you be my radar?  
They don't understand us,  
but it don't matter  
Satellite,  
Satellite,   
Be my satellite?


	8. Simple Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> women in the kitchen again

_Time goes by so fast._  
One last breath is all I have.  
The people come, they fade.  
I try so hard to shape these words  
I cannot formulate.

**QFRB**

Rachel was awake before the 6 o’clock knock at Alice’s door. Beside her, Alice groaned and rolled over, burying her head in her pillow. Older Quinn didn’t come inside; she just called through the door, “Up and at ‘em, Alice,” before moving on.

“Don’t wanna,” the cheerleader whined into her pillow. She rolled back over onto her back, but kept the pillow on her face.

Rachel couldn’t help but giggle. When Alice released her pillow and then attacked her with it, Rachel found it far less funny. “Hey!” She took the pillow and walloped the other girl with it, but Alice just lay there, unresponsive. When Rachel lifted the pillow away it was to find Alice just staring up at the ceiling, a little frown flirting around her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

The cheerleader sighed. “I just hope she didn’t wake up Carmen. I don’t want her to go with us.”

“Why?”

Alice flicked her eyes over to the young version of her mother and raised an eyebrow. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“I was wondering if there was any reason other than your dislike for her, is all.”

“What do you mean?”

Rachel shrugged in an attempt at subtlety that failed miserably. “I happened to notice your reactions to your mothers doting over Carmen yesterday evening. Then when Beth called, you looked very…put out.”

The other girl sighed and stared back at the ceiling. “Running in the mornings is just something for me and Momma. She has long hours but she always tries to do something special with us. It’s easier now that Morgan and Carmen aren’t around all the time.”

“That didn’t really answer my question.”

“I just feel different, ok!” She didn’t shout, but her tone was more forceful than anything she had used with Rachel before. “I’m different from Morgan and Carmen and Alex and Shay!” She sat up and tore back her covers, jumping out of bed and storming around collecting her running clothes. “I’m the only one that has Momma’s genes. Except Beth, and she got rid of her. She didn’t want Beth, and she didn’t want me, at least not the way I am.” Rachel didn’t have to opportunity to offer a rebuttal, not that it was really her place, as she didn’t know exactly how Quinn felt about Beth or Alice. She just couldn’t imagine the blonde feeling that way about her child though. “She tried to talk you out of having me,” Alice informed her, “I mean, she tried to talk Mom out of having me.”

“Why?”

“Cause of her career. She was at her height. Everyone wanted her in everything. But Momma didn’t want to use her genes if she had the kid, so Mom insisted that she have me. She wanted at least one of us kids to look like Momma. She was actually going to have two of us.”

“Why didn’t she?” Rachel asked, too caught up in the story to realize she was technically speaking in the third person.

“Complications. She’s really small, and I was big. I ended up arriving early and her doctor was out of town. He couldn’t get back in time, so some young guy ended up delivering me and he fucked some stuff up. Momma wouldn’t let her have another one. Said it was too dangerous.”

They both fell quiet and Rachel wondered what kind of complications would keep her from having another baby. Alice picked at her duvet, anger drained away a little.

“That doesn’t have anything to do with you though,” Rachel rationalized, “there was nothing you could have done about it. I highly doubt that Quinn doesn’t want you.”

Alice sighed. “It not that she doesn’t want me, she just doesn’t want me to be like her.”

“Alice…”

“I just can’t help it. It’s not like it’s my fault. I know I’m probably blowing this all out of proportion or whatever. Carmen just makes me so-” she trailed off with a growl. When she continued it was clear that her anger had returned with a vengeance. “Everyone loves her, she can do no wrong. You know what Momma did when she found out I got one of the solos for Sectionals and Showcase?” The question was clearly rhetorical but Rachel shook her head anyway. “She got mad at Mom, said it was nepotism. Like I couldn’t fucking earn it on my own without her help. She didn’t do that when it was Carmen a couple years ago.” Alice turned her back and pulled off her sleep shirt roughly, growling angrily when it got caught on her glasses, and then yanked a sports bra on just as forcefully, followed by a plain grey t-shirt. “I can’t help it if sometimes _I_ want to be the favorite.” She pulled on her shorts. “So, I hope Carmen isn’t coming running with us.” The conversation had some full circle, and Alice’s tone made it clear that they were done talking.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Rachel asked meekly as she watched the cheerleader put in her contacts.

Alice shot her an apologetic look though the mirror and nodded.

**QFRB**

Quinn wasn’t sure of much, especially since she had found herself in this strange future. What she was sure of was that her feelings for Rachel, which she had been repressing for years, were just growing stronger. In fact, her feelings were becoming so overwhelming that she had dreamed of the beautiful diva the night before.

She usually didn’t remember her dreams unless they were nightmares, and those came infrequently. But boy, did she remember this one, and it was the opposite of a nightmare. Even as she lay in her half-awake stupor, blurry eyes taking in an equally blurry ceiling, it was fresh and yet the details slipped away like water trickling though cupped hands.

It had been nice. More than nice. It had been, she hesitated to think it but, hot. Sexy.

_Yeah, sexy._

The details were fading but she could remember Rachel hovering over her, smiling in such a seductive way that it almost made the dream feel unrealistic. She didn’t even know if Rachel’s face could make that expression. Their skin had touched, thighs and arms and cheeks, and Rachel had been wearing a shirt and maybe underwear, but Quinn honestly couldn’t remember. She was too focused on how real everything felt. She could nearly feel Rachel’s breath ghosting over her skin, first at her neck and then up over her jaw and cheek until their mouths were only separated by molecules.

She smiled sleepily. Yeah, it had been good. She allowed herself to indulge in the warm heaviness of her body as she slowly became more aware. It was through this that she realized that she couldn’t really feel her hands (or her arms)

_Where is my hand?_

When her brain didn’t immediately connect her with any sensation she panicked a little.

_WHERE IS MY HAND?_

Of course, that would be the exact moment that she registered the feeling of course hair against the tips of her fingers on her right hand. Her left arm was completely numb and squished up against her belly awkwardly, but her right…her right hand was in her sleep pants. And not just in her sleep pants, it was also in her underwear. And not just in her underwear, her hand and fingers were very noticeably somewhere they shouldn’t be.

_Oh God._

Quinn wasn’t exactly a stranger to masturbating. In fact, she had known the practice existed since she was seven and one of her older cousins (she was nine) had told her all about it. She had attempted it many times, always with a feeling of shame and guilt (and intense paranoia) attached. It was no wonder then that she hadn’t found it very fulfilling. Most of the time she couldn’t work up the arousal to actually get somewhere with the deed, and the rare times when she could, it nearly always dissolved either out of frustration or more guilt/shame/paranoia. The frustration often stemmed from the fact that she couldn’t help but to think of fucking Rachel Berry, and she used ‘fucking’ as an adjective (also sometimes as a verb). The guilt, shame and paranoia were all built into her by her parents and older sister, and then reinforced by the lack of a lock on her bedroom door, and an irritating habit her mother had for not knocking. There had also been times when she would be right in the middle of maybe, possibly, getting somewhere and then she would suddenly remember that her grandmother in Heaven knew exactly what she was doing.

That always killed it.

The few times she had gotten anywhere had been nice though.

The blonde rolled over, careful of her pinned left arm and not moving her right hand at all. She didn’t really want to. The left over feelings her dream had inspired were still tingling up and down her spine and curling tightly in her lower belly. She began to move her hand slowly over the sensitive flesh, trying to draw back the images from her dream.

A knock at the door sounded almost immediately. “Quinn, time to get up.”

She pulled her hand out of her pants so quickly and with so much force that the momentum sent her whole arm backwards toward the wall behind her and her knuckles connected with it. Pain shot up her hand and she went from arousal and embarrassment to mind-numbing pain in less than two seconds. She gasped and gripped her injured hand in the other and then cradled them both between her knees, curling up on her side in the process.

“God is punishing me,” she whined into her pillow, nursing her injury with pressure. Her heart was beating so fast that she was nearly worried it would just give out.

 _It’s not_ wrong _though, right. Well, ok, so the Bible says it’s wrong. But it’s not like she’s not going to be married to me or something. That makes it a little better right._

When her breathing and heartbeat finally reached a normal pace, she slid out of the covers and slipped into her running clothes, only just realizing how tired she still was. She groaned in quiet unhappiness when she remembered that Rachel was just downstairs. She was going to have to hide her inappropriate thoughts deep inside just to make it through the day.

**QFRB**

Carmen didn’t run with them.

They ran silently, with only the sounds of their feet on the pavement and the occasional passing car invading the quiet.

Rachel could understand how running in silence could be soothing, but she just couldn’t feel it. Her thoughts were roaring and smashing around inside her skull. Since hearing Alice’s insecure rant earlier that morning, she had given serious thought to what her future relationship with Quinn would be like. She confessed to initially having a rather immature assumption about what their married life would be like. She had only seen love and joy and happiness and support, but Alice’s tale had clued her in to the darker side of the family. No family was perfect after all. And despite the fact that Quinn would go through therapy, there was bound to be residual effects of her upbringing present.

In order to keep herself from fixating on the fact that not everything would be sunshine and daisies in her future, she looked at Older Quinn’s shoulders. The older blonde and Alice had taken the lead in the run, and Rachel had ended up behind her future wife. Despite the chilly weather, Older Quinn was only wearing a tank top and track pants. This left her shoulders in view, and consequently, the tattoos that crept up from lower on her back.

Her right shoulder had several small silhouettes of birds that looked like they were flying up from her lower back, the closer they got to her shoulder the larger they were, and then, the last bird that actually went with the curve and ended on the front of her shoulder, was defined and more owl like than the others. It was like looking at an optical allusion.

The design on her left shoulder was mostly hidden, only a sliver of something yellow could be seen, the rest of the visible skin had been shaded a light lilac that faded out back into the natural color of the blonde’s skin.

Her curiosity was gnawing at the back of her brain again, and she resolved to find out what was on the older blonde’s back before she was dragged back to the past.

Young Quinn’s thoughts were centered on something completely different. Trying to keep her eyes facing forward. She didn’t know if she was annoyed or pleased that Rachel wasn’t running in front of her. ON one hand, it made her want to look to her right every few steps, but on the other, at least she wasn’t able to outright leer at the diva’s ass and legs. Good Christian girls didn’t do that sort of thing, but Rachel made it nearly impossible for Quinn to be a Good Christian Girl.

Good Christian girls didn’t marry women either though.

“What did Mom think? About you marrying a woman?” She nearly slapped herself for even asking. It was a valid question, but she didn’t really want to ask it around Rachel. It was easy to say that Quinn Fabray wasn’t a very open individual. She didn’t like to share her vulnerabilities. Her family was one of the main areas of contention for her.

Her mother, after kicking out Russell, had definitely proved that she was a much nicer and more open-minded person than Quinn had previously suspected. She was still a drunk, she was still a bad excuse for a parent, but at least she wasn’t cruel and harsh and mocking like Russell Fabray was. Life at home was better.

Older Quinn sighed. “Well she didn’t disown me. She didn’t support it at all though, at first. In fact, she didn’t support me at all while I was on the drugs. It was made clear that I wasn’t welcome at home. At the time that really hurt me, but looking back on it, it was a good thing. I would have used her. She would have been so much easier to manipulate than Rachel was. She’s an alcoholic too, so she could have been very easily persuaded to enable me.

She didn’t come to our wedding. Neither did Fran, but I think that was more because she didn’t want to upset Mom than because she didn’t approve.”

“What changed her mind? I mean, she coming over for Thanksgiving…”

“Morgan did. Or, his birth. She didn’t want to miss out on her grandchildren’s lives.”

“It good that she came around though,” Rachel supplied.

“Yeah, it’s great. It was one of the things I really worried about. Losing my family again. Just more fodder for my therapist though.”

“Momma?” Alice asked, drawing the older blonde’s attention. “What would you do if I told you I was pregnant?”

The woman’s step faltered a little. “Tell you I was disappointed and then call my OBGYN to get you an appointment,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the road ahead and not on Alice’s. “Why? Do I need to do that?”

Alice smiled a little. “No, not yet. But I’ll keep you posted.”

The older woman scoffed and took her daughter into a headlock. “You’re a rat sometimes, kiddo.”

Rachel smiled at the scene. It made her feel better. Alice might be insecure about her place in the family, but Rachel had known Quinn for years and she could tell when the blonde was being honest or fake. There was nothing fake or forced about Quinn’s affection for her daughter. Their daughter.

**QFRB**

Once again Quinn had taken the second shower, but she didn’t make the mistake of wandering into the kitchen again. Instead she just took what was becoming ‘her’ spot at the bottom of the stairs. Rachel was keeping their unspoken meeting time too. She had showered as quickly as she could, eager to spend some time alone with the blonde.

The brunette took a few seconds to observe her fellow time travel, taking in her posture and the cute contemplative pout she was sporting.

“Hey,” Quinn looked backwards at the sound of Rachel’s voice and tried to grin at her upside down, “is something wrong?”

“No,” the blonde answered, righting herself as the brunette approached. “Why would anything be wrong?”

“You looked like you were brooding.”

“I don’t brood.”

Rachel smiled indulgently. “Of course not.” When the blonde just scowled at her she suppressed a giggle. “Really though, what were you thinking about?”

Quinn hesitated, running her fingernails under the lip of the bottom stair and digging into the grain a little. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“About what?”

“Seeing my mom.”

“Oh, I’m nervous about seeing my dad.”

“How old would they be now? Like eighty?”

“Well I don’t know about your mother, but my father would be in his eighties, yes.”

Quinn scoffed. “My mom is probably still trying to pretend she’s thirty or something.”

Rachel gasped suddenly, sitting up straight and slapping the blonde’s thigh. She ignored the girl’s exclamation of pain. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Quinn demanded, rubbing at the stinging spot on her leg.

Rachel turned terrified eyes to her. “I’m going to meet your mother!”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Yeah so?”

“So what if she doesn’t like me?” Rachel’s frantic question came out shrill and her eyes were so wide and full of worry that Quinn almost felt a little sorry for her, even if she was acting like a complete loon.

“You’re a complete loon.”

Rachel huffed, her worry turning briefly into affront. She reached up and whacked Quinn about the head a few times.

“Ow!” The blonde rubbed the back of her head with a wince. “God, you’re really abusive. I’m seriously rethinking my attraction to you.”

“So you admit you’re attracted to me?” the brunette questioned with a grin.

Quinn, only just recognizing her mistake, flushed and looked away, her hand dropping back into her lap. “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“I would never,” Rachel insisted, tossing her hair dramatically. “Regardless, I don’t think you’re putting enough weight on the fact that I will have to meet your mother today.”

“Well _I_ don’t see why it’s a big deal.”

“That’s the problem!”

“So enlighten me.”

Rachel groaned in frustration. She reached over and put one hand on each side of the blonde’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. “I’m meeting your mother,” she enunciated slowly, looking directly into the wide hazel eyes in front of her. “It’s kind of a big deal. What if she doesn’t like me? What if I humiliate myself somehow? What if I drop the antique crystal serving dish that had been passed down in your family for generations and she forbids that you marry me?”

When Rachel stopped speaking, the blonde looked up from the still lips she’d been staring at. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t hear any of that.”

“You’re so exasperating.”

Quinn smiled charmingly. “I don’t think we have any antique crystal serving dishes in my family. There is the good china though.”

“I knew you were listening.”

Quinn’s smile morphed into a smirk. She really hadn’t been paying full attention, but her brain had caught up after a few seconds. “I hang on your every word.”

“Naturally.” She glanced shyly at the blonde. “So, do you really think I’m attractive?” Rachel realized she was being a little cruel. Both Older Quinn and her older self had confirmed that Quinn had always liked her. She knew Quinn found her attractive, and it was especially apparent when she thought back to their interactions over the time they had known each other.

Quinn knew it was silly to be afraid of rejection as she was currently immersed in proof that Rachel was very much in to her. You didn’t have five children with someone you weren’t in love with. She was nervous though, anxious and worried that as soon as she confirmed that she liked the brunette that she would be laughed at and mocked.

She bit her lip and faced Rachel, her face blank and her mind shaking apart. She was amazed that her hand stayed steady when she reached for Rachel’s face, expression shifting to contemplative as she palmed the brunette’s cheek and ran the pad of her thumb down the bridge of her nose. Rachel closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose at the feeling, giggling quietly. When the blonde took her by the jaw and turned her head, like she was examining a dog on show, she huffed through a grin.

“Are you going to check to see if I have all of my teeth next?” Rachel taunted.

“That’s actually very important, thank you for reminding me. Open up.”

Rachel opened her mouth comically wide and allowed the blonde to tilt her head in every direction in order to see that she actually had all her teeth. She was amused when Quinn pulled away and pretended she was taking notes. “So what’s the verdict?” she asked with false concern.

“Hold on, I have to find my pen light and check you for ear mites.”

“Seriously?” Rachel demanded. She rolled her eyes.

Quinn shrugged. “I guess you’ll do.”

“You’re mean,” Rachel informed her like it was news and paired it with a devastating pout. Quinn felt her heart stutter at the sight.

Quinn gasped mockingly and opened her eyes as wide as she could. “Spoiler alert!”

Rachel’s loud laugh made Quinn smile every time she heard it, but being the cause of that laughter set her heart on fire. She was so happy that she couldn’t feel nervous when the brunette laid her head on her shoulder, still laughing and just as happy.

“I suppose you’ll do too.”

Quinn scoffed. “Oh whatever, you think I’m hot.”

“God, not again,” Alice’s voice washed over them from farther up the stairs. They both pulled away and turned to look up at her. “Will you two find somewhere else to congregate? We already have to see our parents acting love sick every day; you don’t have to add to it.”

Rachel smiled wickedly. It was a look Alice knew well. She was about to be teased, and if the smaller brunette’s gaze was anything to go on, Quinn would be getting an equal share.

“Oh Quinn!” The blonde had no time to react before the diva had thrown her arms around her neck and pulled her close theatrically.

Surprised, Quinn just laughed and tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. When she had control of her arms she mimicked Rachel’s actions, pulling the smaller girl more fully to her. “Oh Rachel!”

Alice rolled her eyes and shoved past them. “Oh gag.”

**QFRB**

After breakfast, which had been mostly the same as yesterday, Older Quinn had kicked nearly everyone out of the kitchen, keeping only Alice and her older self and claiming that she didn’t want to see any Rachels until lunch time. Shannon and Alex had snuck back upstairs to sleep longer. Carmen and Older Rachel had disappeared into the back yard with cups of coffee. Morgan had disappeared like a ghost, for someone that had a personality similar to hers, Rachel couldn’t figure out why he would keep himself hidden away so much.

She had nothing to do, her own schedule had been destroyed after the first day and now she was living on someone else’s. She did what Older Quinn had suggested the first evening, she explored. She found the laundry room, the washer chugging along. She found the dining room next, the long dark table held ten place settings already, and Rachel wondered if the delicate white china was the same that Quinn had mentioned earlier.

Wandering further back into the house, she found an office. It was minimally decorated, containing a simple dark wood desk and chair and a love seat that matched the one in the living room. There were no ornaments on the wall, and the desk held a tablet computer like the one that Alice had used the other day, and a digital picture frame that was shuffling through pictures. It was apparent that the lack of decoration was purposeful when she walked by a darkened glass case and it lit up. The lights inside were motion sensitive, she guessed, and this case was the main draw of the room.

Glass shelves were laden with awards and plaques and picture frames. There were Tonys and Grammys and awards she didn’t even know the names of. There were playbills and movie posters and scripts in stacks. She lost count of how many pictures she was in with other celebrities. She almost squealed when she saw the picture of herself with Taylor Lautner and Oprah and David Letterman. She _did_ squeal when she saw the picture of her and Quinn with Lady Gaga between them.

She devoured everything with her eyes, soaking up every detail and trying to imprint the exact feelings deep against her heart. She never wanted to forget this feeling of pride and accomplishment. So trapped in her self-admiration she was, that she failed to notice she was being watched until her observer made himself known.

“Good morning.”

Rachel jumped in surprise and turned to the door, eyes comically wide. Morgan was standing in the door way wearing proper clothes, jeans and a soft gray sweater, instead of his pajamas from earlier. His hair was slicked back and shiny. He really was a very handsome young man, and she could see a little bit of her father in him. He wasn’t large like Alex was. He was almost scrawny in comparison. Now that she was aware of the donor of the other half of his genes, she could see Sam’s influence in him. “Good morning.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright.”

“Admiring your awards?”

Rachel smiled proudly and nodded. “It seems that I’m quite accomplished.”

Morgan bowed his head in recognition. “Uncommonly so. You kept quite busy.”

“Did I ever have trouble finding work?”

“Not after you kicked off. Everyone wanted you. You’re very talented, as you’re aware.”

The validation fortified her even further than seeing the tangible rewards displayed before her. “It’s such a wonderful feeling. I feel so full. Everything here is just so amazing and it just makes it all seem worth it.”

“All of what?”

“Everything I’ve gone through. Every insult that’s ever been given to me. Every Slushie thrown at me. Every article of clothing ruined. It’s all worth it. The fact that I have a wonderful, loving family is just icing. I’m a little jealous. My fathers are very good to me, and I know they love me, but they can be distant.”

To Rachel’s surprise Morgan laughed loudly and for several minutes. It wasn’t mocking laughter, he seemed genuinely amused. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “It’s just, you’re so sincere.” He trailed off with an amused shake of his head. “You aren’t seeing the whole story. You just get a glimpse. It was just luck that brought you to this period of time instead of, oh four or five years ago. You want your life to be sunshine all the time, but that’s not the way the world is.”

“What do you mean?” Rachel could tell he wasn’t being cruel. He was an honest person, and he knew her. Knew she could handle it.

“I mean, that we weren’t always so…well, I don’t want to say happy, because that would imply that I grew up unhappy and that isn’t true. I had a very happy childhood. As have all of my siblings. My mothers work a lot. In fact, Carmen, Alice, and I were almost always cared for by nannies. When Mom was on Broadway, there were sometimes days where I wouldn’t see her at all. I will admit that those days were rare. She almost always had a little time for us. Momma was only slightly better. She worked from ten to five and then from eight to eleven, six days a week.” He paused and swept over the glass case she had observed earlier. The awards had excited her. They were marks of her excellence. “It was more apparent that we hardly saw them before we started school. Our nanny would keep us occupied during the day when we were young. We were in bed before either of them came home until we were twelve.”

She moved to stand beside him under the pretense of taking a closer look at the four Tony Awards displayed in the case, among others. “What changed?”

Morgan laughed. “The rule is that we have a bed time, which was ten, until we’re twelve. If our grades slip or we have trouble staying alert they would reinstate a bed time. But we were trusted to know our limits. So once I was twelve I would just stay up really late, usually I got to see Momma, but Mom didn’t turn up until the early hours of the morning, and I wasn’t willing to stay up that late.”

“Is it better now?”

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t live here. I know Alex and Shannon will probably have a closer relationship with our mothers than Carmen and I. Alice got caught right in the middle. It would probably be best to ask her.” He sighed and leaned closer to her, looking her straight in the eye. “I didn’t tell you all of that because I wanted to upset you or anything. I just know how the women in this family work; I’ve seen the stars in your eyes since I got here. I just wanted you to be well informed. “

**QFRB**

“What did I say about Rachels in my kitchen?” Older Quinn asked the younger diva when she walked in.

“Um…Rachel told me to come help.” That wasn’t exactly true. Older Rachel and Carmen had interrupted any further conversation between her and Morgan when they entered the older diva’s office; talking over each other with such speed that she wondered if they even heard each other. It had just sounded like a lot of noise. Morgan had apparently understood what was being said as he had joined the conversation after only a few seconds. After a few minutes of watching the mess and hearing the noise she snuck out unnoticed, but really had nothing else to do.

The kitchen had seemed like a logical choice at the time.

The older blonde rolled her eyes and looked around for something to keep the girl busy. She ‘ah ha!’d quietly when she saw the colander full of green beans sitting by the sink. She pointed it out to Rachel and then turned her attention back to the stuffing she was in the process of preparing. Young Rachel took the colander and approached the younger blonde, hoping to get a little sympathy from her.

Alice and Young Quinn were peeling yams and russet potatoes, respectively, at the center bar. Quinn with a knife instead of a potato peeler (Alice was using it), and she was going so fast that Rachel worried for the safety of her fingers. Even as she watched, the blonde finished with one potato, adding it to the pile of six already finished roots before she started on another one.

“Um, Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

To Rachel’s mild horror, Quinn looked away from her work but didn’t slow down in the action of the knife. “Wash them, then snap them, and make sure you take off the stems. Then wash them again.”

The job was boring and repetitive. It was also time consuming. She guessed that there were at least two pounds of green beans to snap. It was going to be a long morning.

“Did it hurt? Getting all of those tattoos?”

“Yes, a lot. Some more than others. The ones that are directly over bone hurt the worst.”

“So why do you keep doing it, if it hurts.”

“If you want something bad enough and it means the world to you and you want to get it tattooed on you and show it on your body for the rest of your life, then I don’t think it matters how much it hurts. If you want it that bad, you’re going to sacrifice for it. You’ll endure the pain. I’ve always been a bit of a glutton for punishment. And there are other things that hurt worse. Death, sadness, anger. Tattoos allow me a level of control over the pain. It’s a better addiction than the coke in any case. And my wife can’t just cut me off like she did with having kids.” She winked at the young diva and then chuckled when the girl blushed.

Younger Quinn saw the flush and couldn’t help but grin. “And what does Rachel think of all the tattoos?” she asked in honest curiosity.

“She’s ironically turned on by my bad girl image. Aren’t you Rach?”

Rachel flushed deeper and fixed her eyes firmly on the vegetables in front of her, refusing to comment.

Everyone laughed at her expression. “See, told ya,” Older Quinn said with a nudge to the younger blonde. “She did threaten to break up with me when I thought about gaging my ears.”

“Oh, God no!” Young Rachel exclaimed vehemently, rounding on the blondes. “That’s disgusting.”

“Right, so I didn’t do it,” the older told the younger. “I got my tongue pierced instead. She had no complaints.”

“Gross, no way!” Alice shouted in disgust, dropping the yam she was peeling into a pile of skins. “That cannot be true.”

“It’s true,” her mother informed her calmly. “I stopped wearing it when I was thirty. I felt like a poser or something. The hole’s closed up now.”

Rachel desperately wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction. Thoughts about Quinn with a tongue ring were seriously threatening her ability to remain standing and control her speech centers. “Are there places you wouldn’t tattoo someone?”

“When I first started out I was very shy about seeing other people’s bodies. Now I don’t really have any reservations. I have seen parts of people I never wanted to see, but that comes with the territory. I actually gave a woman tattoos on her breasts a few months ago. She came from Pennsylvania just to see me. She wanted spider webs with her nipples in the center. That hurt me a little, gave me phantom pains. They only place I don’t give tattoos is in the eye, because I’m not qualified for that.”

“People get tattoos on their eyes?”

She hummed. “Yep, I’ve seen all sorts of things. Little stars, hearts, zebra stripes, glow in the dark spots.”

The younger blonde shivered in disgust before continuing with her potato peeling. “Are there things we don’t do?”

“I’m sure if you thought about it long enough you could think of some things without my help,” Older Quinn teased, poking her younger self with a celery stalk. “I’m not the morals police. I’ve written and drawn some foul things on people before. There are things I don’t do, but not many.”

“Like what?”

“I tend to steer clear of anything having to do with Nazis. There was a boy once that wanted me to write ‘Better to be in a Nazi prison than in a Communist Party camp’ on his shoulder. I did that, reluctantly. He was a radicle, convinced that America was turning into a Communist country. I can be a little paranoid about the government sometimes, but he was taking things a little far.”

“Do you just tattoo people?”

“My shop offers piercings and we sell body jewelry. I am also required by law to offer chipping,” she grumbled the last part and chopped rather viciously at an onion. Alice giggled at the confused looks on the time travelers’ faces.

“People have to have identification chips,” she explained. “Most people get them when they’re born, but some older people that don’t have then sometimes decided to get them. They’re very useful. They hold all personal data on them, like birth certificate information, driver’s license, and social security numbers. When I graduate from high school I’ll get a virtual diploma along with my hard copy. Momma just gets paranoid about all of it.” Older Quinn snorted derisively.

“Why?”

Older Quinn interrupted her daughter’s attempt to further explain. “Because of the GPS. The chips are a lot like the ones in dogs and cats. They, and by ‘they’ I mean anyone that has our social security numbers, can track us anywhere on Earth or the moon.”

“The moon?”

“This is the future, Little Me,” Older Quinn teased.

“She’s afraid the government is going to take over our brains or something,” Alice told them with an exaggerated eye roll.

“No I’m not!” Older Quinn insisted.

Alice nodded behind her back and mouthed “she is.”

“I just don’t like the thought of so much personal information being so easily accessed. Not to mention all the hackers that have stolen a lot more than identities because of them.”

“Yeah but the FBI has been able to catch them all and the rate of kidnappings has gone down by 75 percent,” Alice reasoned.

Hours of cooking seemed to fly by. Older Quinn and Alice kept them entertained with stories about weird tattoos. Morgan had passed through around noon to announce that he was leaving to pick up Big Dad, whom both Rachel and Quinn assumed to be Rachel’s father. The turkey was in the oven, the tofurky just had to be heated, the stuffing was finished, the yams were baking and the potatoes were in the process of being mashed. The green beans were steaming; the rolls were on deck, pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, deviled eggs (for the non-vegans in the family), and corn on the cob were ready and were kept hot.

It was going to be a magnificent feast and all that was missing were their guests.

“Quinnie!”

Or they _were_ missing their guests.

**QFRB**

_It's harder enough to breathe,_  
Harder enough to fall.  
And I’ll be sitting on your back porch  
Trying to figure out who you are,  
Made in the factory of simple parts.  
I know better, you know better.  
I’m no better…


	9. Excavating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's dinner time

_They don’t dig the holes quite deep enough_  
for everything you got to take to your grave  
…  
Your complexion, it speaks volumes of  
The ghosts you’ve born  
and the walls that you’ve built up  
it keeps them in  
There’s one for every sin.

**QFRB**

Quinn thought her mother looked a bit like a dinosaur. She was clearly an older woman, even if she hadn’t known the woman was somewhere in her eighties, she would have been able to tell. The older woman had gone through more work, face lifts, Botox, the whole shebang. There was no other way her skin could be that tight. Her hair was still blonde and her eyes looked like they were being pulled back.

The older woman (She felt weird thinking her mother could be considered elderly, especially since she seemed to be very spry)marched boldly in to the kitchen and planted her feet in a wide stance in front to the bar, opening her arms wide to signify that she expected a hug. “What’s left to do?” she demanded.

Older Quinn sighed and wiped off her hands with a kitchen towel before throwing it onto the counter and rounding the bar to meet her mother. “Mom,” she greeted with a wry smile, “you look fantastic.”

“Stop lying,” she admonished in a half-flattered tone. “You need to get to the salon, young lady.”

“Mom,” the artist complained even as she wrapped her arms around her mother, “I’m nearly fifty.”

Judy Fabray tutted. “That’s not possible dear, I’m only forty.” The old woman winked playfully at Carmen and Alice over her daughter’s shoulder. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you avoided talking about your hair. Really, dear, what are you waiting for?”

“Time,” Older Quinn replied testily, pulling away and going back to her station. “If you must know, I have an appointment next week.”

Judy sighed unhappily at that news. “Well, if that’s the best you can do…” Rachel noticed the way Older Quinn’s shoulder’s bunched at the tone, but luckily Judy dropped the subject and moved to greet her granddaughters instead.

The elderly woman spent several minutes getting reacquainted with Alice, pinching cheeks and telling her how much she had grown.

Alice broke away eventually and rubbed at her sore cheeks. “Nanna, I saw you two weeks ago.”

“Amazing how fast you children change nowadays, isn’t it?” Alice glanced over her grandmother’s shoulder with a pleading expression.

“Mom, we have some guests staying with us this year,” Quinn interrupted for her daughter, drawing the older woman’s attention to the time travelers. “This is Rachel’s third cousin, Barbie. And this is her friend Charlie. They’re staying with us for the holiday.”

“Oh how lovely!” She gave her daughter a conspiratorial wink. “They look a little like you and Rachel did when you were young. Very cute. Are they together?” She asked this in a normal speaking volume, completely unconcerned with the fact that the two subjects could hear her.

Young Quinn felt like her face might literally overfill with blood. She felt a little dizzy at the rush to her brain and she swayed on her feet. Young Rachel was better off in that her face was darker and less likely to show a blush and also because her propensity to do so was already lower than Quinn’s. They both stammered their denials under Judy’s knowing and Older Quinn’s exasperated gazes.

“Don’t harass them Mom,” Quinn reprimanded. “Why don’t you go back to Rachel’s office and drag her out. She’ll love to see you.” She ushered the woman out with only a few protests about helping with the last of the cooking. When she finally got the woman to leave in search of Older Rachel she turned back to the occupants of the kitchen with an exasperated eye roll. “This is going to be the longest day in history.”

**QFRB**

There really wasn’t much left for the teenagers to do except stand around and stare at things. The table had been set hours ago and none of them were really interested in the stories Carmen was retelling for the third time in the other room.

Before Quinn had an opportunity to try and get Rachel to sneak away with her the phone rang. It was Morgan and he had just pulled up and needed someone to hold the door for him so he could help Mr. Berry up the walk.

Quinn was volunteered when a wide eyed Rachel flat out refused to go.

She was a little worried about what she would find on the other side of the door. She knew that Rachel had been nervous about meeting her mother, and had thought it a little silly at the time, but now that she was about to meet her father-in-law, the brunette’s worries didn’t seem so farfetched.

Morgan had left an hour ago and was just returning with his grandfather. This made Quinn realize she didn’t even know where the man lived. And if she didn’t know, she wondered if Rachel did. Her fellow time traveler hadn’t mentioned her parents at all during their stay. While they kept their conversations with each other relatively innocent and light hearted, her interactions with Older Rachel and her older self had been much more emotionally taxing. Rachel hadn’t mentioned it, but she was sure the girl must have had her own difficult discussions with one of their older selves.

She opened the main wooden door and stood by the storm door watching the two approaching men. Rachel’s father, the one she called Dad, was approaching up the walkway, with Morgan hovering beside him, and leaning heavily on a cane. The kids (she had taken to thinking of them as kids even if two were older than her and one was the same age) called him Big Dad, and she could clearly see why. He was huge. Even with his back bent a little from age, he reached six feet. Quinn could easily imagine that he was six and a half feet tall when he was standing straight.

He was black, which she hadn’t been expecting at all. She had never seen Rachel with her fathers before, and though she had probably seen the Berry men around town in her own time, she knew that she wouldn’t have realized it.

He shuffled in with Morgan behind him, barely giving her a passing glance before he headed right into the living room to join his daughter, Carmen and Judy. Morgan followed after giving her hair a quick playful tussle.

Mr. Berry’s silent arrival marked the beginning of dinner set up. Older Quinn had Alice Rachel and Young Quinn running food into the dining room. When the table was ready and everyone had been called in, the prayer went to Morgan. “Yo Pops, it’s the Fabrays checking in. You pretty much already know everything we could ever express so just…thanks. Keep it real. Love, everybody.”

“Really, Mo?” Older Quinn demanded, a little put out with her eldest child. He grinned and she reached into the salad and grabbed a crouton that she then tossed at his face. It missed and landed in his hair.

“Ew gross!”

“Quinn!”

“Quinnie!”

“No food fights Momma!”

“You’ve got crumbs in your hair.”

“Can someone pass the potatoes?”

“Who’s going to cut the turkey?”

Quinn and Rachel cast worried looks at each other. They had ended up next to each other out of sheer luck and they were now taking comfort from that as all hell broke loose over the table. It calmed when Older Quinn picked up the carving knife and serving fork and started doling out the real turkey to those who wanted it. Older Rachel did the same with the tofurkey. The rest of the food made its way around the table too and the sounds of clanking dinner ware and requests to pass certain items dominated the air waves for several long minutes.

“Alright,” Older Rachel announced once everyone had finished serving themselves, “it’s super corny tradition time!”

All of the children, even Morgan, groaned unhappily.

“None of that,” the oldest diva reprimanded. “Who wants to go first?” No one offered and Rachel huffed. “Well fine, I’ll start us off, _as usual.”_ It was clearly designed to be a guilt trip, but it didn’t work out that way. In fact, it just made everyone at the table laugh.

“Like you said, Mom, it’s tradition,” Alex jibed playfully.

“I’m thankful for my family and our love, naturally. And I’m thankful for the chance to share that love with friends.” She directed the last to the two time travelers. “Quinn?”

Younger Quinn started briefly, startled to hear her name called when she had been in the process of sneaking a green bean across her plate. She looked up in time to see her older self wink at her. She flushed and slumped down in her seat a little. Beside her, Rachel shook with held back giggles. Quinn reached across her lap and pinched the other time traveler right on the thigh. The brunette squeaked and smacked the offending hand.

“I’m thankful for the opportunity to clearly see how far I’ve come in life, and for the ability to see how far I still need to go,” Older Quinn replied over the sound of their play fighting. Young Quinn tried to remove her hand from Rachel’s lap so that she could continue to work that single bean closer to the edge of her plate, but the brunette’s smaller hand wrapped around hers and kept it trapped there. Her cheeks pinked only the slightest bit. She wondered if Rachel was just trying to keep her from sneak food, but when fingers twined with her own she had her answer. She could barely hear what was being said at the table over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

“I’m thankful that I’m finally going to get a paycheck!” Morgan crowed next, his problem with the tradition was clearly for show, or he had just been mocking his younger siblings, because he required no prompting.

Carmen sighed and executed an exquisite head toss. “I’m thankful I don’t have to live in this town anymore.”

“I’m thankful I don’t have to live with Carmen anymore,” Alice offered snidely. Young Rachel thought she almost caught a flash of hurt in Carmen’s eyes, but it was gone and replaced with haughty irritation before she could really tell.

Older Rachel hissed a reprimand to the middle child and Older Quinn just frowned at her disapprovingly.

Alex was next. He took his time, twirling his fork around in his mashed potatoes for a minute before he thought of something. “I’m thankful that this is my last year of middle school.”

“I’m thankful for puppies and purple belts,” Shannon told them with a sage nod.

Alex looked at his little sister oddly. “Why puppies?”

“Cause puppies are awesome,” she replied as if her reasons should be obvious.

“I’m just thankful that I got to see all my grandbabies one more time before I died.”

“Way to be dramatic, Mom.” Older Quinn raised her glass in a mock toast.

“I’m not getting any younger, Quinnie.”

“I thought you were only forty.”

The unamused glare that Judy gave Quinn sent the children at the table into a giggle fit that couldn’t be quelled.

“Dad,” Older Rachel called down the table to the silent slumped figure beside Morgan. He looked up, eyes blank, and focused on her. “Did you have anything to say?” she asked gently.

Young Rachel had avoiding interacting with her father for several reasons so far. One, a relatively unimportant reason, was because she didn’t want him to recognize her. More profoundly, she didn’t want to have to acknowledge the fact that part of her largest support system in the present was missing in the future.

Her Dad loved her. He was strong and brave. If he knew half of the things that were done to her as school the ER would probably be full of young teen athletes that had been beaten into unrecognizable lumps of bone. Some, like Kurofsky, might just disappear entirely. He was the one that met Finn at the door, not with a shotgun, but with a firm handshake and a bass growl that had shaken the large boy in his sneakers. Finn hadn’t been comfortable going to her house since then. That same bass growl could gentle to the smoothest singing voice she had ever heard and it was perfect for the bedtime stories she had claimed to outgrow at the age of ten.

Her Daddy though, he was the one to tuck her in. He was the one that taught her the importance of Barbra and having a perfect pitch. He was the ‘soccer mom’ that never missed a recital or a show. He was the one she could complain about Finn to without fear that her boyfriend would be injured in some way. He was the tender heart. What was it Brittany had told Kurt? That heart attacks are from loving too much? Yeah, that made a lot of sense then.

Brittany got it right pretty frequently.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that her Daddy just didn’t exist anymore. And Quinn must have understood that because she was looking right at her and stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. Rachel glanced at her and smiled as best she could.

Leroy Berry said something in his deep rolling grumble, but it was mostly incomprehensible.

Quinn held Rachel’s hand tighter.

“Charlie, Barbie, you don’t have to, but you can say something too, if you want,” Older Quinn offered after giving her wife a sympathetic smile.

Rachel and Quinn’s eyes met.

Rachel spoke first, her eyes still connected with Quinn’s. “I’m thankful that I met so many wonderful people that have affected me more than they can know.”

Then everyone’s eyes were on Quinn, waiting, and the pressure was almost too much. She nearly shook her head. Nearly denied herself the opportunity to be honest. “I’m thankful that I have the chance to see what’s always been right in front of me,” she said finally, fighting back tears when Rachel copied her and stroked the back of her hand.

After Quinn’s confession everyone fell into relatively tame conversation while they ate. Judy didn’t allow Carmen to dominate the conversation and made sure to speak to all of her grandchildren. Leroy Berry didn’t speak unless directly addressed by one of the kids or Rachel. Older Quinn didn’t attempt to speak to him at all and he seemed fine with ignoring her.

The lack of drama must have been slowly starving Carmen’s brain, because it wasn’t too  long before she tried to stir up trouble.

“Barbie looks a lot like Mom, doesn’t she Nanna?” Carmen began innocently; she saw the looks on her mothers’ faces and quickly switched her plan. “Puppy has a crush on her.”

“Carmen!” Alex raged, slamming his fists down on the table and shaking the glasses with the force. His face was an unhealthy shade of red. “That’s not true! And don’t call me Puppy!”

Carmen’s grin was evil and familiar, Rachel had one very similar. “Your oedipal complex is really amusing,” she tormented. She was far enough away that she didn’t have to worry about him kicking her under the table.

Alex scowled in retribution, about to open his mouth for a biting retort.

Morgan added before he could start, “At least you don’t have a father to kill. Now you just have to get rid of Momma.”

The younger boy grinned at his brother, the joke suddenly funny since the older boy was in on it. He sent his blonde mother a mock glare across the table, twirling his steak knife a few times. “Yeah Momma, you’re going down.”

Older Quinn smirked at her youngest son. “Oh, I’ll be going down all right.”

It took two seconds for the comment to sink in to everyone’s brain. The four older Fabray children all had similar reactions of disgust, Morgan’s being the least dramatic and Carmen’s the most. Young Rachel and Quinn were both mortified and looked pointedly away from everything except their very interesting meal.

“Quinnie!” Judy Fabray gasped in shock. “That was entirely inappropriate.”

There was a playful smack from Older Rachel.

Leroy Berry looked like he hadn’t heard anything that had happened.

Only Shannon was left out of the loop. “I don’t get it,” she told them in a whine.

“Don’t worry baby, all it means is that Alex is going to marry a nice Jewish girl when he grows up,” Rachel informed her youngest daughter gently.

“Do I have to do that too?” Shannon asked.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Older Quinn supplied.

**QFRB**

Lunch had started to turn into early super by the time everyone filled up. Quinn felt like she had been stuffed instead of the turkey, and Rachel was feeling warm and sleepy. It helped that the blonde’s hand that she had taken before they began eating had stayed comfortably nestled with her own under the table for the whole meal.

It was nearly three by the time they all started shuffling away from the table with half empty serving bowls. Only when Rachel took the bowl that used to hold the green beans she had snapped herself did their hands separate.

Quinn felt cold settle over her palm. Holding Rachel’s hand was probably her new favorite thing, she decided.

**QFRB**

Rachel and Quinn had both come to the conclusion, independently of each other, that they had spent too much time in the kitchen that week. It was starting to get ridiculous.

Rachel’s pruned hands agreed. They hadn’t even made it through half of the dishes that had to be hand washed yet. On the plus side, it kept her from being part of the crew that went back and forth from the dining room where her father was still sitting in silence.

“That’s the last of it,” Older Rachel declared when she brought in the butter dish. “I’m going to set Dad up in the living room. The game should still be on. That ought to bore him to sleep.”

“Hey would you go find our mom?” the older blonde requested of the younger after her wife’s retreat. Quinn acquiesced easily, flicking sudsy water off the tips of her fingers in Rachel’s direction as she left.

She found her in the downstairs bathroom with the door open, adjusting her make up. Quinn almost wanted to roll her eyes, but with the woman looking directly in the mirror it would be only too easy to be caught.

“Sent to look for me, Quinn?”

Bingo.

Quinn panicked at the greeting and rushed to correct the elderly woman. “Oh, I’m not Quinn. I’m Ch-“

“You’re Quinn,” her mother interrupted with a scoff. “As if I wouldn’t recognize my own daughter.”

Quinn flushed in embarrassment and confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“You like to think you’re protecting me, and I’m fine with letting you believe it most of the time. I may be an old woman but I’m not an idiot. And as much as I love Carmen, I wouldn’t consider her as someone gifted with the art of subtlety.” Quinn couldn’t help but agree. “I don’t think Leroy has noticed anything, and I do believe you and Rachel were right in deluding him. Ever since Hiram passed he’s been so…withdrawn.”

“He was really…silent.”

Judy didn’t reply other than to nod in agreement. They both stood in silence for a moment, the elder finishing up on touching up her lipstick before she turned to face the younger. “Quinnie, I just want you to know that I’m so proud of you.”

Quinn flushed again at the sudden praise and looked down at her feet. “Mom,” she muttered disapprovingly.

“No, you need to listen. I know I wasn’t the best role model. Even when I was trying my hardest I was still so stuck in my ways that you were afraid to come to me when you most needed me and that just wasn’t fair to you. But you’ve impressed me so much. The way you deal with your children, I know I didn’t teach you that, but I’m glad you learned it from somewhere. I know that if they ever come to you with any problem or worry that you won’t ever turn them away. They can relish their differences and not have to be afraid of them.”

Quinn didn’t know what to say so she remained silent, eyes still focused on her feet. She didn’t move for several minutes after Judy left the restroom and it was only with the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house did she look up.

Her brain felt a little foggy from all the information she was trying to digest. Her mother was ok with it.

Her mother knew she was gay and she was ok with it.

She wandered back towards the sounds of activity and found herself in the kitchen with Alice, Rachel and Older Quinn. They were all wrapping up food or doing dishes already so Quinn wasn’t sure what to help with.

“Where did Mom go?”

“Her cab arrived.”

“Cab?”

“Yeah, she refuses to get glasses so the state took her license. I’ve told her she can get contacts or even that laser surgery but she thinks it’s the work of the devil. I don’t really understand that one. I mean, she lets doctors insert cologne under her skin all the time but she won’t let them fix her eyes.” The older blonde shrugged.

Older Rachel reappeared in the kitchen, after a few moments of silence. “Dad’s asleep,” she informed them all. “Hopefully he’ll stay that way for a while too. He’s always been a heavy sleeper.”

Older Quinn laughed without much humor. “We’ll let’s pray they don’t get too loud anyway. Do you want to lock them all in the basement?”

“What are you talking about?” Carmen demanded.

“We’re just expecting a few more guests, is all.”

Alice jumped into the conversation. “Who?”

Older Rachel looked around for Shannon briefly, and when she saw that the little girl had snuck away from cleanup duty she relaxed. “Some more time travelers are coming over. Not everyone can just show up at their parents houses for Thanksgiving with a doppelganger.”

“They’re all coming here?” Younger Quinn demanded. She shared a worried glance with Rachel.

“Not all of them. Only the ones in town. We offered to babysit.”

“The basement would probably be a good idea,” Young Rachel muttered. “Who’s coming?”

“Uh…” Older Quinn shared a hesitant look with her wife. Older Rachel winced.

“Finn’s coming, isn’t he?” Young Rachel asked when she saw the look pass between them.

“Among others.”

Younger Quinn and Rachel shared another worried glance, neither noticing that they were nearly mirroring their older counterparts. They couldn’t help but feel a little swell of dread.

Quinn had a sinking suspicion that the day was going to end a lot worse than it began.

When she and Rachel escaped from the kitchen they made their way to the staircase without any conversation on the subject. Upon sitting down the brunette looped her arm with Quinn’s immediately.

“I wonder how they’ll react.”

Quinn sighed and leaned her head on the one of the stair railing’s posts. “I can’t imagine it going well.”

“You really shouldn’t be so negative.”

“You really shouldn’t be so bossy.”

Rachel giggled. “You’re kind of funny when you aren’t being a complete…”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“No, go on, say it.”

“…Bitch.”

Quinn gasped in false shock and pulled a comical face. “I can’t believe you would say such a thing.” She couldn’t hold back her own giggles as she said, “I’ve been nothing but kind to you.”

“Recently.”

“I resemble that,” Quinn said indignantly.

Rachel bit her bottom lip and noticed when Quinn’s eyes followed the action. The blonde was just so…cute.

She told her so and watched in delight as Quinn’s face took on a hue resembling a tomato. She giggled and without thinking, leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on the burning cheek.

Quinn’s breath hitched at the contact and Rachel froze in shock at what she’d just done. They didn’t move from their positions, Rachel’s lips ghosting against Quinn’s skin with every exhale.

The doorbell rang and they sprang apart. Rachel bit her lip again turning her entire body away from Quinn’s so she wouldn’t just leap on her and kiss her senseless.

The blonde had to put more room between them before she did the same so she got up to answer the door.

Quinn sighed heavily at the sight the greeted her though the peep hole. “It’s Brittany and Santana,” she told Rachel. The small brunette had impatiently tried to push Quinn out of the way so she could see through the peep hole only to find that she was just a little too short to use it.

On the other side of the door Brittany rang the doorbell three times in quick succession.

“Ok, ok, hold on a second,” Quinn yelled through the door, pulling Rachel out of the way.

The second the door was opened Brittany pounced on Quinn.

“I love the future! It’s so much fun. There’s holograms and cars that talk and the music is so cool. Me and San stayed up all night the first night watching YouTube videos of hover boards. Those are like boards that fly and stuff.” The blonde finally took a breath and stopped trying to squeeze Quinn’s ribcage until it caved. She bounced over to Rachel and hugged her instead. The small diva’s eyes widened comically and she flailed a little when Brittany pulled her head tightly to her chest. “I’m so happy that my time machine worked! Oh! Did you know me and San are married?” Quinn shook her head, biting her lower lip hard when she noticed the way Rachel was desperately trying to pull away from the awkward embrace. Brittany didn't notice. “Yeah, we totally are and we have kids and stuff and they act just like San! Isn’t this just the best vacation ever?” She released Rachel and bounced a step back, almost colliding with the older Brittany who looked just as excited as her younger counterpart. “Me and Myself are trying to talk Santanas into having a foursome,” the blonde informed them with enough enthusiasm to choke something large and generally unenthusiastic. Her beaming grin was infectious enough that Rachel mimicked it for a moment before what had been said registered.

Behind them, both Santanas shot each other matching looks of irritation.

Older Rachel, having wandered in at the tail end of Brittany’s excited ramble, winced. “And she just said that in front of the kids.”

A look of shock settled over Young Brittany’s face. “We wouldn’t do it in front of the kids Old Rachel. That would be like…mega creepy.”

“Anyway,” Older Santana said pointedly, “can we please get inside? It’s cold out here.”

There was a flurry of movement as everyone tried to shift out of the way so the new arrivals could enter, but no one wanted to leave the scene, mostly out of a morbid sense of curiosity. Santana’s daughter silently elbowed her way through the crowd and grabbed Alice around the wrist, turning and dragging her up the stairs without protest. The intense look of irritation on her face that closely mimicked the younger version of her mother warned them off of trying to impede her progress.

“Don’t stay up there long, Nicole,” Santana ordered after her. “We have to leave in ten minutes.”

Nicole didn’t acknowledge her mother’s order verbally.

“Mommy?” Shannon asked, tugging at Rachel’s sleeve, “I’m really confused. What’s a foursome?”

“Okay,” Older Rachel replied, drawing out the word. “Charlie, Barbie, why don’t you show your friends down to the basement.” She took Shannon by the hand and led her up the stairs, quietly starting a sentence with “A foursome is when…”

“Mind if I go drag Nic away from your spawn?” Older Santana asked. She didn’t wait for Quinn to reply before she marched toward the stairs.

**QFRB**

“You look old.”

The door had barely closed behind them before Santana started in. Quinn was honestly surprised that she had lasted that long in the first place.

“Yeah? You’re one to talk. Nice mom hair, Santana.”

The darker girl scowled.

“I like her hair,” Brittany commented absently, eyes focused somewhere over their heads. “It’s cute.”

Santana flushed noticeably and avoided eye contact with all of them. Rachel almost felt bad for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Brittany and Santana had been involved in the past, but they had entered senior year with Santana stuck in friend zone. Brittany had since been dating some new kid that Rachel didn’t know and the Latina had been more volatile in general. She had taken to avoiding the girl completely when she had the option.

Quinn huffed. “Whatever, I’m going to go get some of the leftovers and bring them down for later. You know those boys are going to be hungry.”

She didn’t really think anything about leaving Rachel down there with Santana.  Brittany was there too, and she had always liked Rachel a little. She also thought Rachel was a mystical creature, so that was probably part of it.

The ground floor was chaos. Alice and Alex were closer down the hall with Nicole and Brittany and Santana’s son. He introduced himself as Eddie and then turned right back to his conversation with Alex about some television show that was popular in their time.

Older Santana, with her very professional mom haircut was trying to corral her two children and Brittany and get them out of the house.

Older Quinn was trying to help and so the younger told Alex and Alice to help her get food to take downstairs. Alex was especially eager to help.

“Fridays are usually takeout days, but since we have so many left overs we’ll have to eat that tomorrow. But if we can get rid of all of them, Mom might order Thai.”

“I don’t want Thai,” Alice argued. “We should get Chinese.”

“Like there’s a huge difference.”

“There is.”

“It’s all Asian.”

“That’s racist.”

They continued to biker even as Quinn left the room.

When the doorbell rang again she doubled back to see who had arrived. Older Quinn got to the door first, Shannon trailing behind her.

Young Quinn would not have recognized Puck if it weren’t for the fact that he was escorting his younger self. He was completely bald on top of his head, but he had a large righteous beard to go with his large muscular arms and barrel chest. He had a neck tattoo of a shark and ‘Beth’ on his knuckles in fancy calligraphy style letters.

He, unlike Brittany and Santana, had not dragged his children and wife out of the minivan type car that stood rumbling at the curb.

“Just so you know,” Older Puck opened with the air of a responsible adult, “I’ve told Seth that if he gets your daughter pregnant, I’ll send him back to the orphanage.”

Older Quinn stared levelly at him for a long moment until he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “Go away.”

“Right, bye.” He was out the door before Young Puck could open his mouth to call out for him. He realized he had been left in a lion’s den and turned reluctantly to face both of the Quinns standing in front of him.

Unfortunately for him, the youngest Fabray child had spotted him and had stolen his attention before the blonde women could drag him away to be murdered in some dark corner of this psudo-mansion. “Hi,” Shannon greeted shyly, waving at the mohawked boy with her fingers.

“Uh…hi,” Puck offered, a little freaked by the girl’s tone and actions.

“You’re cute,” she told him and he chuckled as little as possible. He wasn’t afraid of the adult Quinn that stood behind the girl, arms crossed and glaring, but he didn’t want to give her a reason to murder him either.

“Ok,” Older Quinn said firmly, taking Shannon’s hand and dragging her towards the stairs, “we’re keeping you far away from him. In fact, I think I might just have to lock you in a cupboard or something. How do you keep ending up down here? Charlie, take your friend down to the basement.”

The teenagers heard a very whiney “but Momma!” as the young girl was dragged up the stairs and then a tense hush fell over them.

“So,” Puck began eventually, drawing Quinn’s attention away from the stairs. “Are the others here already?”

“Just Santana and Brittany so far. And Rachel,” the blonde replied. She was tense and Puck could see it. He knew her well and that alone made her more uncomfortable than she already was. “But she lives here so…”

“You and Rachel though,” he said quietly and with affectionate amusement, “I was surprised, but it really makes a lot of sense when you think about it.”

“What do you mean?” Quinn demanded.

“Well, you kind of act like a dude who likes a chick and can’t really express it right. Instead of hitting on her and making references to how big your dick is, you treat her like shit and try to force your feelings on other people.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Are you high?” Quinn asked, honestly curious. She couldn’t really understand how he could be so calm about her future relationship with Rachel when she could barely keep her heart rate down to normal just thinking about it.

“Not right now. I was a little earlier. Did you know pot got legalized six years ago? I own a smoke shop. I’ve pretty much been munted for the past two days.”

“Sounds responsible.”

Puck scoffed. “It’s my adult self’s job to be responsible. This is totally an awesome vacation.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and turned to lead him down to the basement, ignoring his question about if she was planning to murder him when they reached the bottom.

Brittany was just as excited to see Puck as she was Rachel and Quinn. She leapt on him and gave him the same excited speech she had delivered earlier. When she revealed that she was married to Santana, the boy shot her a very smug smirk to which Santana replied with her middle finger.

Mike and Tina arrived just as they were starting to argue over what movie they should watch to pass the time. Every suggestion that the time travelers would come up with would be vetoed by Alex or Alice as being “freaking old.”

The debate continued until the settled firmly on Easy A. It was Alice’s favorite “old” movie, Alex thought Emma Stone was hot (so did Quinn but she didn’t say anything) and some of the other time travelers hadn’t had the opportunity to see it.

Finn and Kurt arrived ten minutes in to the movie and it was paused.

The tall boy had a strange fire in his eyes. He wasn’t angry. It was more like a look of extreme protectiveness or perhaps ownership. He knew that Rachel, his current girlfriend, had married someone else, but he hadn’t been told who by anyone. Anytime he had tried to bring it up with his adult self the conversation would be shut down. He could feel that his territory had been intruded on and he was looking for a way to rectify the situation.

“Rachel,” he said in a gentle tone, laced with clear adoration.

Rachel looked up, smiled and stood, and across from her Quinn could already feel her heart breaking. The blonde had to look down when Finn took Rachel into his arms and spun her around. Rachel’s happy laughter cut through her like a hot knife. She wanted Rachel to laugh for her like that. When Rachel’s laughter was silenced suddenly Quinn had to close her eyes because she knew what was happening and she didn’t want to be tempted to see it.

She felt a hand on her knee and she peeked to see that Morgan was the culprit. He was unhappy too but he gave her a comforting smile. It helped too, just seeing his face was helpful. It was a reminder that in the end she would get the girl. While she was still at odds with her beliefs and her raising, she was also beginning to accept that despite all of that she could and would be happy.

Rachel just felt guilty.

Under most circumstances Finn was an alright kisser. Puck had been better, honestly, but she had been willing to look beyond that when she thought that the boy was her soul mate. Now though, everything was different. Now he was too large and his face as too prickly and his hands were too big on her waist. He smelled like turkey, and she knew he hadn’t brushed his teeth since he had eaten.

She wanted to be kissing Quinn.

And realistically she knew that Quinn had eaten turkey at lunch as well, and that she hadn’t brushed her teeth since then either. The thought didn’t gross her out like it did with Finn though.

When Finn managed to drag his mouth away from hers (with the encouragement of Santana for the two of them to get a room) he said, “It’s super weird that Adult Quinn answered the door for your house. Are you like, friends with her now or something?”

“Really, Finnept? Are you that clueless?” Santana asked from her spot next to Brittany.

Finn looked more confused than insulted. “What do you mean?”

“Quinn and Rachel hooked up,” she revealed plainly. An awkward silence descended briefly while Finn digested the startling news he had heard.

“Wait,” Finn choked out, “you and Quinn are…like, married?”

“That’s what I just said,” Santana muttered in irritation. Everyone ignored her.

Rachel flinched even though his voice was just bordering on surprise and hurt and there was no anger present still. “Yes, Finn.”

His brow collapsed. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I called you the other day?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Dammit Rachel!” The smaller girl flinched at the sudden change in tone along with the rest of the room’s occupants. “I did ask. I was being all supportive and understanding. I was really trying hard to not be like…a jerk or whatever and the whole time you were hiding this from me! I bet you and Quinn were just having a grand old time, laughing it up about how out of the loop I was. I bet you were having crazy lesbian sex or whatever because everyone knows how Quinn likes to fuck up my life.”

Rachel flinched again because Finn’s voice had dissolved into anger. He was coiling up, looking for some way to discharge his anger. She didn’t say anything though, in order to keep him from getting any angrier. She looked around the room to find that everyone just looked uncomfortable. Santana looked irritated and Quinn…Quinn was just blank. That was disappointing.

Quinn didn’t comment. Finn had always had a short fuse and a propensity for taking his temper out on inanimate objects, luckily there were no small chairs for him to kick over. It hurt though, not saying anything. Not standing up for the girl she was in love with. Not standing up for herself. It was hurting Rachel too. She could see those dark eyes flicking to her and then away a few times.

“Hey!” Morgan stood up and moved himself between Finn and Rachel, fire in his eyes and hands on his hips. “You don’t have any right to treat Rachel that way, especially since this is _her_ house. If you don’t start acting like a decent human being I’ll escort you from the premises myself.” He paused and looked around at all of them. “That goes for everyone here.” He returned his gaze to Finn and moved his hands from his hips to crossing his arms over his chest. “And I think you owe someone an apology.”

Finn did not appreciate being lectured at by a guy that was the child of his ex and current girlfriend. It rubbed him the wrong way to see someone that looked like Rachel (only more like a boy Rachel) but talked to him like Quinn used to.

Rachel noticed this and rushed to head off an explosion. She jumped up and took Morgan’s arm, stroking it gently. “That’s really not necessary.”

“No it is,” he argued. “If you won’t take up for yourself, and no one else,” here he glanced at Quinn, “is willing to help you then I will. Always. You’re going to be my mom. I’ve always stood up for you. You couldn’t stop me when I was a child and you can’t stop me now. And there’s no way I’m going to let some scared little boy, who is only worried about his own feelings, put you down.” He looked pointedly back at the tall boy. “So apologize or get the fuck out.”

Finn shuffled his big feet and looked ashamed. “Sorry I yelled. I just don’t like that everyone was hiding this from me.”

“Honestly, Finn! What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to tell you something like that over the phone. I knew you would react badly.”

“So everyone just decided to bombard me with it all at once and like, rub my face in it?”

“We aren’t rubbing your face in anything, Finn. Quinn and I haven’t had any interaction at all since you arrived.” Finn opened his mouth to make another argument but Rachel cut him off quickly. “Come over here Finn,” she pleaded, pulling him away from the others and to a far corner of the room and began to speak to him quietly so the others couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“Finn, I really need you to stay calm.”

“I just, how can I when I see my ex with my girlfriend and you aren’t tearing each other’s throats out like usual? I don’t even know how I’m supposed to think of you right now? When did you turn gay?”

“I’m not gay Finn, and I’ve always been bisexual, I’ve just never had the opportunity nor the desire to explore that other side of myself. Clearly, something will change in the furture. I just want you to know that it hasn’t changed yet.”

“So…”

She felt the pain of lying settle firmly in her heart. She usually prided herself on brutal honesty, especially in her relationships, but there were other things to consider in this situation. She now had two relationships to safeguard. If lying to Finn kept him from attacking Quinn then she would do it unflinchingly. “So I’m still very much attracted and in love with you.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am, Finn.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I accept your apology.”

“Things can change, right? I mean, adult me said that the future changes with every decision we make so…maybe you and I can be together in the real future.”

Rachel tried very hard not to wince. “There are millions of possibilities.”

“You would rather be with me, right?”

It hurt to look him right in his pleading eyes and confirm that she would, but she did it.

**QFRB**

Quinn watched them like hawks, along with everyone else in the room. Rachel had her back to the rest of them, so they couldn’t see how she looked, but Finn’s face went from anger to jealousy to worry to contentment. And then he kissed Rachel again and Quinn just had to get out.

By the time she made it to the top of the stairs the tears had already started running down her cheeks. She ran to the downstairs bathroom and shut herself in, still not allowing the sobs that wanted to escape her free. She didn’t want anyone to hear. So she cried through her teeth, choked down some water, and then cried some more.

It felt like only a few minutes had passed when someone came knocking at the door. She didn’t answer and hoped that whoever was there would just leave. Her hope was dashed when the door opened and closed quickly, quiet footsteps on the tile as the only indication that someone had entered the small room.

Quinn curtailed her tears quickly, wiping her eyes and stifling her shuddering gasps with a clinched jaw. When she turned around she found Rachel leaning back against the bathroom door, sad brown eyes were focused on her.

A false smile worked its way on to her face, but it resembled more of a grimace. “I need to use the restroom, Rach-el.”

“Do you really? Or are you just trying to escape?”

“Does it matter?” She squared her shoulders against the emotional hurricane that was raging in her chest.

Rachel didn’t answer the question. She chose instead to cut right to the heart of the problem instead of pointing out that the blonde had been M.I.A. for the past half hour. “He’s my boyfriend, Quinn.”

Quinn’s smile was tight already, but it just got thinner at the other girl’s defeated tone. She knew she didn’t really have a right to be upset. She wasn’t dating Rachel. Sure, they were going to be married one day, but that was years away.  It hurt though, seeing the brutish boy with his hands on the tiny girl and his slobbery tongue trying to work its way into her mouth, had always done, but she had only just admitted why it hurt so much. Honesty felt a thousand times worse than lies. She knew now that she just wanted to pin the brunette under her and erase every trace of Finn’s touch and kiss from her mind and replace it with something new and altogether wonderful.

She wouldn’t do that though. She wasn’t brave enough to try. “I know,” she whispered finally, closing the gap between them with words that did nothing to comfort either of them. The blonde sniffled and choked down a sob. Before she could even hope that Rachel wouldn’t notice, the brunette was already in motion, intending to cross the small area and embrace the blonde. The blonde in question turned her back on the smaller girl. ”Please don’t touch me,” she begged. The footfalls silenced. Quinn took a trembling breath.

“Quinn,” Rachel started but then trailed off.

The blonde shook her head and breathed deeply, a few wayward tears eking out the corners of her tightly closed eyes. “I’m fine.”

Rachel began to approach again and when the blonde didn’t stop her, she wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn’s waist, laying her head gently between the taller girl’s shoulder blades. Quinn stiffened under the touch but didn’t pull away. “You’re not.”

“I’ve just finally figured out why it always bothered me so much and it just…sucks,” the blonde revealed when Rachel didn’t continue. Under her cheek Rachel could feel the blonde’s shoulder blades rise and fall in an unconscious shrug. She felt her own heart squeeze tightly in her chest at Quinn admission. She didn’t have to ask what Quinn was talking about.

Finn.

He was a problem, but not one she was willing to do anything about while in the past. She had talked him down, but she knew that she was going to have to spend the rest of the evening glued to his side so he wouldn’t get insecure and jealous again. He was really very needy.

“The older you told me something the first day we got here. She said…” Rachel hesitated for a second; nervous about how the blonde in her arms would react, “that you had always liked me. And the way she said it sounded like she didn’t mean it platonically.” Quinn froze under her for several long seconds during which neither of them managed to breathe. Only when the blonde drew in a shuddering breath did Rachel start to breathe again too. “I want you to know,” she continued when she realized that Quinn was not going to respond verbally, “that I’ve always had this strange fascination with you. I’ve desperately sought for your approval and every time you would shut me down I would just try harder. And you know I think you’re breathtaking,” she felt Quinn lean into her embrace a little. “I guess you could call it a crush. I have a crush on you.” Quinn laid her arms over Rachel’s, twining their fingers and holding the smaller girl’s hands closer to her. It emboldened Rachel to say what she wanted to next. She lifted her head and leveled her mouth with Quinn’s ear. “And someday I’m going to marry you.”

Rachel’s speech had calmed and comforted Quinn. She was embarrassed, and almost wanted to deny, that Rachel knew she had always liked her. More than anything though, the brunette’s last claim sent a wave of love crashing over her and she felt so full and wonderful that she thought she could pass out from it.

She turned in Rachel’s embrace, wrapping one arm around the girl’s shoulder to more effectively crush their bodies together, and burying her other hand in dark locks, twining the strands around her fingers. She pressed her forehead to the shorter girl’s temple and just breathed with her. Rachel held her tighter, she could feel Quinn’s fingers flexing on her back.

Quinn was sure she was flying.

Rachel was sure she was falling.

The brunette was the first to move, she turned her head until their foreheads were meeting.

Their mouths were so close that they were breathing the same air. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. They nearly touched and Quinn could imagine that they were touching. She could nearly feel the electricity that she knew was just waiting to pass from Rachel’s kissable lips to hers. God, she wanted that mouth on her own so badly. They were frozen there, eyes locked. When Quinn’s thumb trembled over the arch of Rachel’s cheekbone the spell was broken. She pulled back just enough that their foreheads were no longer in contact.

“Quinn,” she reluctantly reprimanded, looking down and away from the bright hazel eyes that were so focused on her.

Quinn’s fingers curled against the softness of the brunette’s cheek and she looked away too. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted. “It’s just not right, right now. He’s in the other room and for right now I’m his.”

Quinn nodded, accepting the perceived rejection like a heavy yoke.

Rachel saw the melancholy sinking in further and moved further into Quinn’s personal space, bringing a hand up to mirror the one on her own cheek. She stoked away a few tears and cupped the blonde’s chin, forcing hesitant eyes to meet her own. “Hey, I want to kiss you,” she confessed, running a gentle thumb under the other girl’s bottom lip. She lost her train of thought for a second when the inviting mouth dropped open a little. “But I want to do it right,” she continued when air returned to her lungs. “Not in some bathroom with my boyfriend waiting for me outside. That’s not right. It’s not fair to him and it’s definitely not fair to you.” She swallowed and struggled to hold back tears at the look on Quinn’s face. “You deserve so much more than the knowledge that after I kiss you I’ll have to walk right back into his arms.”

Quinn nodded and stepped away completely. It was for the best. She didn’t want to get too attached anyway.

_Too late._

“How is it that we always have emotional moments in bathrooms?”

Rachel smiled sadly. “Apparently it’s a habit we will never break.”

**QFRB**

_And you’re still saying_  
my excuses and my reasons  
they are tearing yours to pieces  
But you can rest assured  
That I, I’ll use them when I need them.  
But you need them now  
to come and dig you out.


	10. Raze the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> longest chapter? I think so

_And you don’t even realize_  
you could raze the city to the ground  
Lasso down the moon for you  
If you walk by me.

**QFRB**

If Alex was a puppy then Morgan was a full grown guard dog. Something fierce like a German Shepard or a Rottweiler.

As soon as Rachel led Quinn back into the basement he had his arm over her shoulder and was leading her away from the brunette to sit between him and Alice on a separate sofa.

The room was lit with a soft golden glow and it radiated a sense of warmth just like the rest of the Fabray house did. Quinn felt very comfortable there in the basement trapped between her two future children despite the fact that Finn had clasped Rachel tightly to his side as soon as she sat down by him.

Finn wasn’t looking at Quinn at all, his gaze was focused on Rachel entirely, and his attitude wasn’t smug or jealous. Whatever Rachel had said to him had clearly gotten through. He was just possessive and so was Quinn, so there was still a huge tension between them that the boy was attempting to ignore.

“So does anyone know where the others ended up?” Kurt asked as Quinn settled in. “I know Mercedes is in Atlanta doing some sort of show.”

“Artie’s in space,” Brittany offered up. “I used to think he was a robot, but now I know he helped built the pyramids.”

“He’s an astronaut,” Santana clarified with an irritated eye roll when the blonde beside her received several confused looks.

“Yeah, he’s looking for other aliens. I don’t know why he has to be in space though. They live among us.”

“Sam says that all the time,” Morgan added. “Maybe he should have Artie on his show.”

“That would be so badass!” Alex agreed, sitting forward and fixing his wide brown eyes on his older brother. “We should ask at Christmakkuh.”

“What are you weirdoes talking about?” Finn asked, his face twisting in confusion.

“Hey!” Quinn sat up straighter, Morgan’s arm still comfortably around her shoulders. “Don’t call my kids weirdoes.”

Quinn almost found it interesting that everything that Finn did seemed unattractive and borderline offensive to her now. She could clearly remember a time with the boy’s confused expression would have been cute or endearing, or sometimes just frustrating, but now it just pissed her off. Everything about him pissed her off. His hair, his clothes, his grin, his voice, his stupid arm slung over Rachel’s delicate shoulders. Everything.

But to the blonde’s pleasure, Rachel was just as irritated it seemed, because she smacked his leg hard.

“Ow! I was just teasing.”

“Anyway,” Morgan cut in before any further abuse could occur, “Sam Evans has an occult television show. He searches for mythical creatures and aliens and ghosts. It’s pretty entertaining.”

“Oh wow, has he found unicorns yet??

Morgan smiled indulgently at Brittany. “Not yet, but they’re very shy.”

“Yeah,” Brittany nodded sagely, “they don’t like boys very much either.”

“What about you Brittany?” Kurt asked in an effort to get away from unicorn conversations. “What are you doing now?”

Everyone knew how excited Brittany was about the future. They had all gotten the same exact earful about how she was married to Santana and they had kids and there were hover boards, but she hadn’t talked about more than that.

“I own a dance studio!”

“Hey, so do I!” Mike enthused. The two dancers gave each other exuberant high fives.

“And I coach the Cheerios.” Brittany kept her wide blue eyes locked on Mike, as if she expected him to reveal that he coached a cheerleading team too.

“Oh, I don’t do that.”

It turned out that Brittany and Mike had both ended up at UCLA for dance. Mike moved on to New York and worked as a dancer and occasional actor on stage for a long time. It was only as he started to age that he went from dancing to teaching and he and Tina moved to Chicago and had stayed there for the past eight years. The couple had been together without a break since they first began dating. Mike’s first year of college had been trying on their relationship, but they had made it through and were made all the stronger from it.

Brittany had taken a different track, dropping out of college after only a year, and ended up as a dancer for Beyoncé and then Lady Gaga. She met her first husband at some sort of fancy party and had a child with him. She left him eventually and got together with Santana who was a lawyer in New York. They had eventually moved to Boston and then to Lima when Sue Sylvester broke her hip and ended up confined to a wheelchair for an indeterminate amount of time.

Santana had gone to a private school in the south that gave her a full ride and then to Columbia for law school. She was now a civil rights lawyer.

“I was super confused when I got here though. Cause like, I thought for sure that Sugar was my child sent from the future, but apparently she’s not.” Brittany shrugged. Santana hugged Brittany consolingly.

“Maybe she’s from an alternate universe?” Alex suggested helpfully.

Kurt had ended up on Broadway just like Rachel, and was currently single and not necessarily looking for anything serious.

Puck had started a moderately successful band called More Than Us in college and spent several years touring. When the band split up he returned to Lima and opened his own smoke shop which he still ran. He met his wife in that very shop.

Finn was lame and stayed in Lima where he tricked a woman into marrying him and having his kids. At least, that was the uncharitable way that Quinn interpreted his story. She barely managed to keep the “yeah, no one cares,” from slipping out.

“What’s it like, living with two Rachels?” Santana asked, interrupting Finn’s irritating story about what awesome new video games there were in the future. Other than him, only Puck seemed disappointed in the change of conversation.

“It’s more like five Rachels really,” Quinn replied in a low drone. Morgan squeezed her shoulder and she tried to smile for him. “It gets pretty loud.”

Morgan laughed. “We grew up in New York,” he said by way of explanation.

“I’d probably purposefully burst my ear drums,” Santana snarked.

“I kind of like it.” Quinn shrugged at the looks of surprise and disbelief that several people cast her way. She was more interested in the shy, adoring look that Rachel gave her.

About six seconds later Finn seemed to realize that his girlfriend had been subtly insulted. “Hey, Rachel isn’t so bad,” he piped up, an offended look settling over him slowly. He glared at Santana.

“Whoa, Lurch, slow down before you hurt yourself.”

Finn scowled and opened his mouth to retort but Rachel stroked his arm and whispered something in his ear. He snapped his mouth closed and sat there pouting while to conversation carried on without him.

They eventually ran out of things to talk about and returned to the original plan of watching Easy A. Someone hit the lights and someone else started the movie back up. The boys and Santana rediscovered the food and all was quiet and calm for a while.

Quinn just wished she could actually focus on the movie.

In the blue light of the television Quinn could just see where Rachel and Finn were sitting. Finn had pulled Rachel further into him so that she was nearly in his lap. She wanted to look away, because it was clear that Finn was using the cover of dark as an excuse to feel Rachel up. The small brunette looked like she was discouraging his advances, but Quinn would bet money that Finn had that smug smirk of his plastered on his face.

She hated his fucking smirk.

Rachel moved one of Finn’s hands from her thigh and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was caused Finn to nod enthusiastically. He wrapped his awkward arms around her and pulled her fully into his lap, where she proceeded to tuck her head under his chin.

Quinn’s lip curled in distaste and she looked away. But she couldn’t focus on the movie and before too long her eyes were straying back to the duo on the couch.

She looked back just in time to see Finn tilt Rachel’s head back and plant his lips on hers.

Rachel didn’t know Quinn was watching. Even though she had become acclimated to the feeling of the blonde’s eyes on her years ago, she was more focused on keeping Finn from making another scene. His pleading whines of “why won’t you let me touch you,” had been getting louder and more insistent with every advance she deferred. When he kissed her and she allowed it, she didn’t hear or see Quinn bolt from the room.

Rachel tried to focus on the way Finn made her feel. But instead of the rush of adrenaline and arousal that she was expecting, she mostly just felt physically uncomfortable. She had always been aware that he was a large boy, but she hadn’t ever noticed how ill-fitting they were together. He had to be uncomfortable with the angle that his neck had to tilt at in order to kiss her properly.

When his stubble scratched over her cheek and chin, instead of feeling excited at the physical reminder of his masculinity, she remembered the smooth softness of Quinn’s cheek under her lips. And, God! The way Quinn smelled. It was nothing at all like the mixture of sweat, musk, and turkey that Finn was exuding. It wasn’t entirely his fault, she could rationalize that, he couldn’t help that his sweat was unattractive to her.

She couldn’t get the feeling back. She knew what it felt like, but she couldn’t even really remember it. Not fully. It was just an echo of how she was supposed to feel.

She allowed Finn to kiss her for a few more seconds. When he frowned at her retreat she pointedly reminded him that they were in public and returned her attention to the movie.

**QFRB**

Quinn hadn’t had the opportunity so far to step out into the back yard. The back porch was deep and covered, to the left there was a handsome outdoor kitchen, the shiny top of the grill peeking over the edge of the granite toped counter.

The grass was all dead, but it looked like it was usually a lush green. In the middle of the yard was a fair sized swimming pool with an artificial waterfall built on. The water wasn’t currently running, probably due to the near freezing temperatures.

She sat in one of the outdoor loveseats that were kept out of direct contact with the weather and tried to relax. Her stomach was rolling and the cold helped to calm her racing heart and mind. It was nice to be alone.

Really, she should have expected to be interrupted.

“Finally! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. This house is fucking huge. You must be seriously loaded.”

“Hello Santana,” Quinn sighed.

“Why the long face?”

Quinn gave Santana a flat stare. The caustic girl found this more amusing than anything else. She sat down at the edge of the lounger, her hip butting up against Quinn’s knee.

“You and Brittany huh?”

Santana looked down at her lap, flushing a little. “Yeah. Pretty wild.”

“I expected it. It was more surprising to hear that she had a husband.”

The darker girl huffed loudly and watched her clouded breath float away. “He’s such a fuckin’ douche. He called yesterday and said some sort of shit that made Brittany cry and then yelled at their kid ‘cause he didn’t go visit for the holiday or something.”

“Jerk,” Quinn agreed.

“Yeah, but get this,” Santana smacked the blonde’s leg and leaned closer like she about to divulge a juicy secret. “I’m not a divorce lawyer or whatever, but Brittany came to me to get her out of her marriage so she could keep her kid. Her dick of an ex-husband was going to paint her as an unfit mother or something, cause she seems slow to people that don’t know her, but I just got proof that he was sleeping around and he was the real unfit parent and stuff. Apparently it worked.” Santana shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. The bashfulness lurking around the corners of her dark eyes said otherwise.

“That’s great for you, I guess,” Quinn muttered, side glancing at her frienemy. She was acting really weird. Santana wasn’t usually very talkative.

Santana shrugged again and careful arranged her face into a neutral expression. “So, Big Bad Quinn Fabray is just a Big Ol’ Gay now. I would congratulate you on not being the size of a house, but that mostly just pisses me off so…”

_And the point emerges._

“I’m not gay.”

“Um, I know we used to call Berry a tranny and shit, but she’s seriously all girl. So yeah, you married to her? Way gay.”

“Look, I’m not gay, alright? It’s just Rachel.”

“You can’t pull that shit with me. I see you leer at girls’ legs and asses all the time. Don’t even try to say it’s some weird girly self-conscious issue with your body or anything either. I leer at them too, so I totally know what it looks like.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure.”

“Santana!”

“You still end up married to the dwarf, so I’m pretty sure I win at life.”

“Shut up, you’ve had a crush on her forever.”

“Alright, listen here grasshopper, I don’t have a crush on her. I just want to fuck her.”

Quinn stared at her, surprised by her frankness.

“What? If you ignore her personality she’s pretty fucking hot. Plus she has a huge mouth, can hold one note for, like, thirty seconds or some shit and she’s mastered circular breathing. So yeah, I wouldn’t even be a little nervous above trying to smother her with my pussy. Bet she’d go to town.”

Quinn, torn between embarrassment, jealousy, and disgust, felt her face burn and knew she had turned bright red. Santana’s smirk didn’t improve her mood. “You’re disgusting.”

The darker girl shrugged. “Except now you’re thinking about it.”

There was no way for her to know for sure, but she felt like her cheeks were about to explode. It couldn’t possibly be healthy to blush so much in such a short time span. “I’m not gay,” she insisted, once her mouth was back under her control.

Santana frowned and angled her body so she was facing Quinn fully. She reached out and grabbed Quinn’s hands, holding on tightly when the blonde instinctively tried to pull away. “Quinn.”

The blonde quit struggling and slumped a little. “What?”

Santana looked her right in the eye as if she was trying to see inside her soul. Quinn shrank away a little. She hadn’t seen Santana so quietly serious before. It wasn’t the same brand as her usual angry seriousness, which she had sampled first-hand when they were all freshman and Quinn had called Brittany stupid.

“That’s not fucking cool,” Santana spat right in her face, a little spit flecking the blonde’s cheek.

At the time Quinn hadn’t quite grown in to her bitchiness yet, so she had just replied with a “Sorry, geeze,” and walked away.

No, this was determined and honest, calm.

“I’m gay.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed. “Uh…I know?”

“I’m gay,” she repeated, squeezing Quinn’s hands for emphasis. “Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gaygaygaygay.”

“Yeah I got it, okay? Can you stop that now?”

“I’m gay…and so are you.”

This time Quinn was successful in removing her hands from Santana’s. “God, Santana!”

“What do I need to do? What do I need to do to get you to understand yourself? You’re so in denial that even seeing yourself in the future, completely fucking gay, doesn’t affect your vision of yourself. Do I need to slap you? I will.”

“What do you want from me?” She wanted to be angry. She wanted to yell and fight and punch Santana right in the middle of her supportive expression. Instead she said it quietly. Everyone wanted something from her so it didn’t make since to keep getting upset over it.

Santana surprised her though. She took Quinn’s face between her hands and looked her directly in the eyes when she spoke. “I just want you to be happy, Q! And you’re not. You’re not happy. You’re scared, and I get it. I get it one hundred percent. I am right there with you. But if you can’t even be honest with me, when I’m in the exact same boat as you, then I don’t know if you’re going to make it.”

“I’m being honest!” she lied. “I’m not gay.”

“Prove it.”

Quinn jerked back. “What?”

Santana rolled her eyes. “Prove it.”

“How the-“

“Just kiss me or something.”

“You are insane.”

“No, I’m a freaking genius.”

“Right.”

“Don’t get snarky, that’s my job.”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

“Oh, and I want to kiss you?” Santana sneered and gave her a very offensive once over. “You look like a hobo.”

“You brought it up. And these clothes are clean and super comfortable and warm.”

“Oh please, I have my own hot blonde just waiting for my sweet lady kisses right downstairs. I’m just trying to do a good deed.”       

“How would that prove anything anyway?”

“I’m noting your deflection but moving past it. Hello, if you like kissing me even just a little bit more than you liked kissing those disgusting boys you used to date, then you’re at least a little gay.”

“There’s no way I would enjoy kissing you, for any reason.”

“Come on, prove it. Or are you just going to keep on being a coward for you whole miserable life?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Quinn bristled. People calling her a coward was starting to get really annoying. Decision made for that very reason, she leaned forward until Santana’s triumphant expression halted her. She hesitated, not entirely capable of keeping the apprehensive look off her face. Santana noticed and rolled her eyes so hard that it looked like they stuck for a few seconds.

“Oh my God. Seriously? Just do it already.”

Quinn’s lip curled and she took Santana’s face between her hands a little harder than necessary and leaned in.

For all the force Quinn used to start out, their mouths slid against each other’s softly. Santana was sure and steady and allowed Quinn’s tentative lips to explore hers freely, only moving where Quinn directed. The blonde had never kissed someone so soft. It wasn’t just her lips either, which could be rivaled by Sam’s. It was the smooth skin of her cheeks and the press of their bodies together, the small hands in her hair, and even the way she smelled, like some sort of flower.

It was, without a doubt, the _best_ kiss Quinn had ever experienced. Awkward for sure, because she couldn’t get over the fact that she was kissing Santana Lopez, of all people, but still basically pleasant. And at least Santana was respectful enough to not stick her tongue down Quinn’s throat too, unlike most of the boys she had kissed.

She opened her mouth a little and tilted her head, deepening the kiss. That was the point that Santana decided to be really irritating.

She smirked.

Quinn pulled away immediately as soon as she felt it, a scowl already sketching over her face. She licked her lips and met the smug brunette’s eyes.

“Not gay, huh?”

She didn’t say anything at first. Her brain was still trying to wrap around what had just happened. “I’d really like to be alone now,” Quinn whispered into the cold air between them after a minute, a cloud of vapor forming and disappearing. It burned to see the quickly masked hurt in Santana’s eyes, but she held the brunette’s gaze. Santana nodded, tucking her bottom lip under her teeth in a quick and unconscious move. Quinn wondered if the other girl’s lips were still tingling like mad the way hers were.

“Don’t runaway, Quinn. We all know you can be brave.” Quinn looked away. She sure as hell didn’t feel brave. Santana sighed once and then used the blonde’s shoulder to steady her as she stood up, giving it a quick squeeze before she let go. “Feel better,” she muttered with affected disinterest.

“Hey, Santana,” Quinn called before the other girl could close the back door behind her, “congratulations on not being the size of a house.”

Santana scoffed. “Yeah, thanks. Bitch.”

Quinn kind of smiled at Santana’s back until she disappeared inside. As soon as she was gone, the smile slid off of the blonde’s face. She could feel a crushing realization settling in her brain and then rattling in her chest with a deep breath of freezing air.

_I’m so gay._

**QFBR**

Quinn barely made it to the upstairs bathroom before she threw up.

The toothbrushes that she and Rachel had been given for their stay taunted her from their place on the counter. Rachel’s purple one (She had snatched that one before Quinn even had a chance to make a move. The blonde was fine with it, she preferred the green one anyway, but it had been kind of cute.) was leaning against hers.

She threw up again.

The really remarkable thing about throwing up was that, unless she was pregnant, it made her feel better. Sure, it was a hollow kind of victory when she had been in the Cheerios and it had been a part of her culture, but now that the only time she had to throw up was when she was legitimately sick, it was good.

The queasiness dissipated and she replaced the sour in her mouth with mint from the toothpaste and made her way to Morgan’s room.

She felt better, but there was no way she was going back to the basement when the source of her nausea was still present.

True to the course her life had taken so far, she didn’t get very much time to herself before someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she allowed reluctantly.

Quinn sighed heavily when the open door revealed her older self on the other side. _Of course._

“So, why are you up here?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Older Quinn smirked. “You said that my smug attitude was unattractive, I thought I would stop acting all-knowing while I was around you, but if you’d rather I answer everything you want to say with ‘I know,’ I can.”

“Just shut up.”

 Older Quinn laughed and removed herself from where she was leaning back against the door to move around the room, trailing her fingers over the chest of drawers and then settling in front of the dandelion painting that hung on the wall. “This painting,” she indicated, “I did it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, while I was pregnant with Morgan. It was in his nursery and when he turned twelve I got it tattooed next to the oak tree on my back. The little florets turn into birds about half way to my shoulder for Alice.”

“Can I see?”

The older blonde took her sweater, and then her long-sleeved undershirt off, and then the short-sleeved shirt after that.

“Why do you wear so many clothes?” Quinn asked as the older woman approached in just her bra.

“You know, my wife frequently asks me that very question. Usually when she’s trying to get in my pants.” Quinn frowned but tried to keep from reacting further. She knew her older self was just trying to get a rise out of her, and it was irritating that it worked so easily. She had played it correctly. When she didn’t say anything the older blonde lost her little smirk and answered honestly. “I get cold easily. One of the side effects I’ve noticed from my misspent youth.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to the time traveler and allowed the young girl to look at the ink on her back.

“Why is that?” Quinn asked absently as she observed the scene on what would become her back. Along her spine was an oak sapling, thin and small with five leaves. The trunk of the tree was solid, but the leaves were made of words and phrases. “Thou mayest” took position as the bottommost leaf.

Quinn traced the letters and drew a shiver out of her older self. “What’s ‘thou mayest’?”

“It’s from East of Eden. I read it when I was recovering. As for why I get cold, it had a lot to do with my lack of a healthy diet. My eating disorder troubles were mostly resolved even after Beth was born, as you’re well aware, but eating just wasn’t important to me when I was on the drugs. I lost a lot of weight very quickly. Even though I wasn’t anorexic, I had an anorexic’s body. I got back in shape but I’ve always been a little cold natured since then.”

The younger blonde bit her lip and ignored the direction the conversation had gone. Instead she read the rest of the leaves. After “thou mayest” there was “this is the story I’ve made it, it’s hard to contain it,” and then “I will not falter,” in the middle. The top two leaves read “this time I’ll show you what I can become,” and the last “in diversity there is beauty and strength.”

At the foot of the little sapling was the tattoo equivalent of the painting on the wall, the seeds started to turn into birds half way up. Mixed in with the birds was “we’re all mad here,” and “DON’T PANIC.”

She understood the two references made in the seeds, and two of the leaves sounded like song lyrics.  Even though she didn’t know where they came from, the meaning was still clear enough that she didn’t feel like she had to ask any further questions.

“What did your shirt say?” Quinn had caught a very fleeting glance at it before the older woman had tossed it aside, but now that she was putting it back on she wanted to know what it said. Most of the stuff she and Rachel had borrowed to sleep and work out in had the names of their colleges on it. In fact, the sweatshirt that Older Quinn had walked in wearing had Julliard over the chest.

Older Quinn laughed and held the shirt up so her younger self could read it. It was a stylized picture of the Madonna and child and said “Abstinence: 99.99 percent effective.”

“That’s offensive.”

“A lot of the funniest things are.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and lay back down, deciding to not start a fight with herself.

 The older woman finished getting redressed and then sat back down where she had been earlier. “So, faking sick, huh?”

“I’m not faking. I really threw up.”

“Yeah, I remember now. Sucks.” Quinn didn’t feel the need to reply, so she just lay there silently. “At least they aren’t having sex yet though.”

Every cell in her body froze solid. “What?” It was a useless question really. There hadn’t been much room for false interpretation of the older blonde’s statement. She didn’t want to believe it though. It seemed impossible.

Older Quinn’s eyes were unfocused and Young Quinn knew that she was stuck in the past. “I remember when I found out. They weren’t flaunting it or anything, or Rachel wasn’t. I’m sure Finn told all of his friends about what a stud he was. I said some pretty terrible things to her though.” She shook her head and looked down to meet stricken hazel eyes. “It really hurt, and I thought it was because I was still attracted to Finn at the time, which was really weird because I didn’t fixate on him at all until after I found out. I had pretty much forgotten he existed. Looking back now, I know it was because I felt betrayed by Rachel. It’s just all so messed up.” She ran a hand through her hair in irritation. “It was irrational, but I wasn’t exactly all there. I wish I could have gotten help in high school instead of waiting until I nearly killed myself.”

They sat in silence together until Quinn’s eyelids started to droop. She wasn’t really thinking much of anything, just feeling formless emotions swirl around and ache in her chest. It was almost an unconscious realization that it didn’t hurt as bad as usual.

She didn’t react at first when Older Quinn stood and stretched. It was only when she noticed that the woman was preparing to leave that she spoke. “Is it worth it?” She sounded so much like a child that it made her feel even smaller.

Older Quinn smiled and carefully moved her younger self’s hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. It’s definitely worth it.”

Quinn nodded. Older Quinn left.

There was so much she had to think about.

She didn’t want to.

Not now. Not yet.

But one thing she couldn’t stop thinking about was that Rachel, the girl she was going to marry and make lady babies with, was going to have sex with Finn Hudson. Before she came to the future, he had been nearly invisible to her, after seeing what she would be with Rachel he had turned in to a kind of silent tragic villain, but now, now he was undesirable number one.

Part of her didn’t want to acknowledge that it was a big deal. She got the girl in the end, so it shouldn’t matter who had gotten her before. It did though. It mattered a fucking lot. It gnawed at the edges of her consciousness that Finn Hudson would always have a part of Rachel Berry that she never would. And sure, Rachel would never have that part of Quinn Fabray, but that didn’t matter as much to her. Maybe it was a double standard, but she really couldn’t bring herself to care.

She felt sick again.

**QFRB**

She didn’t know how much time had passed exactly, but she had heard the doorbell ring several times, and the light that filtered in through the single window turned grey and then dark blue, until it was almost too dark to see anything. She could barely make out the outlines of the furniture. She was pretty sure she had dozed, falling in and out of light slumber every time a noise would echo through the large house.

No one had bothered her since she had talked to her older self, and for that she was grateful. It was nice to finally be able to sit alone and breathe without people pressuring her to do something.

Naturally, just as she thought it, someone came knocking.

She rolled her eyes. _I keep jinxing it. I should probably just stop thinking altogether._

“Come in,” Quinn called reluctantly, hoping it wouldn’t be her older self, come back to toss more hurtful revelations at her. She didn’t really want to deal with herself at the moment. She wasn’t entirely sure if that counted as irony or not because she was too emotionally drained to use energy for thinking.

Her luck was coming back it seemed, because it was Rachel the Young that entered the room, a concerned gleam in her eye. “They’re all gone now. Everyone said they hope you feel better soon.” The blonde didn’t say anything, but she must have looked confused because Rachel elaborated. “Um, Older Quinn came to tell us that you were sick and didn’t want to be bothered.”

Quinn just hummed in acknowledgement. She doubted Finn had wished her well, but she was too tired to start something over it.

“Do you still feel nauseous?” Rachel approached slowly, as if afraid that Quinn was just going to suddenly sit up and spew chunks all over the floor.

The blonde unwrapped one arm from around her stomach and held up her thumb and index finger as a measurement. It probably would have been easier to say “just a little,” but it would have come out as “only when I think of him touching you.”

“Story time starts in an hour. Do you think you’ll feel better in time?”

Quinn shrugged. She didn’t want to go. She just wanted to lay there and wallow in her misery.

“Well, I hope you get to feeling better,” Rachel said finally. She couldn’t think of a reason to stay in the other girl’s presence when it was rather obvious that she wanted to be alone. She turned around with the full intent of leaving.

“No, don’t leave,” Quinn called out when Rachel turned toward the door. The smaller girl glanced back and Quinn sat up on her elbow a little, scooting back toward the wall a little. “Stay. Talk to me.”

Rachel hesitated.

“I’m not going to bite or anything,” Quinn said while trying to suppress a pout. She didn’t want to seem desperate.

Rachel grinned sheepishly. She sat on the edge of the bed and then lay down after a quiet minute of hesitation. “Are you mad at me?” she asked once she had settled on her side facing Quinn.

Quinn’s brow furrowed. “No, why would I be?” Her heart was pounding out of her chest from nerves at being so close to Rachel in a bed. A tiny bed that barely allowed them room to breathe without brushing against each other.

“Because of Finn.”

Quinn looked away. “No, I’m not mad. Why would you think that?”

Rachel shrugged. “Santana might have said something to that effect.

“Santana doesn’t know everything.”

“Well she was paying attention to you when I should’ve been. I’m sorry you were uncomfortable.” When Quinn didn’t say anything she continued, “I’m sorry you were unhappy.”

“It’s not like you can be expected to watch me every second, Rachel. You were busy with Finn. It was for the best that you kept him from throwing a fit and storming out.”

They were silent for a moment, both avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

 “Is it weird that I missed you?” Rachel breathed into the space between them after a moment.

Quinn wasn’t someone that frequently thought about sex, in general. She was a teenager, and her hormones did like to play cruel games on her occasionally, like making her extremely horny when she had no outlet available. Her current predicament could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Rachel’s breathy tone did nothing to help her figure out anything.

Just because she was gay didn’t mean she accepted it or knew what to do with the information.

She swallowed. “Only if it’s weird that I missed you too.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes, Quinn.” Rachel scoffed at her own words. "Most of the time actually."

“What do you mean?”

“How can you see all of this, all of these wonderful things that are going to happen for you, and still have doubt?”

Quinn swallowed hard and looked away from the deep brown eyes that were piercing her soul. She ended up staring at Rachel’s collar bones. “I don’t deserve it,” she whispered finally. She reached across the space between them and nearly traced one of those bones with a finger, but she pulled back before she could touch the girl beside her.

“Everyone deserves love Quinn.”

The blonde twitched at the word love, but was otherwise still and silent.

Rachel wasn’t having near the angst that Quinn was. It was very easy for her to accept thing things she saw as factual and rearrange her world view for them. She saw this future. She experienced it. She knew that her older self was successful and happy and loved. It was obvious. The life she had naively planned with Finn in the picture was fuzzy and indistinct, but this was real and it was something she could cling to, even with Quinn being an idiot about it. Rachel scoffed. “This sounds familiar. Have we had this conversation before?”

Quinn bristled. “I don’t know.” She was anticipating an attack, but Rachel’s next words were in the same even, tired tone she had been speaking in.

“Maybe that’s part of the problem we have. Everything is circular and we end up going nowhere. Nothing is changed.”

“I want to change.”

“So do it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it really is.”

“Well it’s not for me!” Quinn sat up and moved away from Rachel, fully intending on leaving the room. Rachel caught her by the arm though and pulled her back down onto the bed.

“Stop running from me,” Rachel demanded, rolling to hover over Quinn.

Quinn’s lip curled. “Stop-“ she cut herself off and just growled angrily.

“Why? Why should I stop anything I’m doing? So you don’t have to confront anything? Well I’m not going to let you do that. Not anymore.”

Quinn pushed the smaller girl in the center of her chest and tried to sit up. “No one gives a fuck about me!”

Rachel shoved her back with a hand on each of the blonde’s shoulders and held her down. “I give a fuck!”

“Why?” Quinn demanded from her place on her back. She was too worked up to even be surprised at Rachel’s use of such foul language. “Why? I’ve done nothing but treat you like shit the entire time we’ve known each other.”

“I’ve forgiven you for that. It’s not even true; we’ve been almost friends a few times before.”

“You’re worth so much more than that?”

“Oh, you think so do you?”

“Of course!”

“Then why can’t I think the same about you? You’re worth more than you seem to believe.” The fight fled from Rachel and she dropped down beside Quinn instead of hovering over her. “I just wish I could make you see it. Somehow.”

Quinn watched Rachel’s face while she thought. She couldn’t really comprehend why Rachel would be at all interested in her. Sure she was conventionally pretty, but she had a terrible personality, when she had one at all. Her Lucy days were probably the last time she had any character traits that weren’t inherently terrible and those had been wiped away by years of crippling self-doubt and hatred. Quinn was a chameleon, an octopus; she added and subtracted traits as they were necessary for her survival. She had nothing that she could give Rachel in return. She had life skills; she could cook and clean and knew plenty about babies without having to study piles of baby books. Rachel could find those skills in anyone though, it wouldn’t be necessary to keep Quinn for just that. If Rachel only wanted love, that would be easy enough to find elsewhere as well. Quinn just couldn’t think of any one thing about herself that anyone, and especially Rachel, would find to be special about her. Something that warranted the type of devotion she could see reflected in this future, where she and Rachel would still have to keep from jumping each other like newlyweds when they had been married for nearly thirty years.

She couldn’t comprehend why, but for some reason Rachel wanted her anyway, and she wanted Rachel, despite everything. More than anything, more than their history, more than her raising, more than her own self-loathing, Quinn just knew that they wanted each other.

Why bother stopping it.

Quinn took Rachel’s shoulder in hand and forcefully turned the other girl to face her so they were both lying on their sides. Rachel started to protest but was cut off by the intense look in Quinn’s eyes. And then Quinn stalled, like she had only thought that far and was now out of ideas, which was pretty close to the truth of the matter.

“I want to kiss you,” Rachel said, pushing the silence away. She leaned closer just enough and then waited.

They hovered there in that in between, with their faces so close that they were breathing the same air. Quinn’s eyes were wide and panicked, but she hadn’t run yet. That was good. She was spooked but not badly. It told Rachel that they could make it through this, no matter the outcome. It wasn’t long ago that if confronted Quinn would lash out and then run. It was her MO. Now she was wary and watchful, an easily startled fawn or rabbit instead of a lion.

“I’m not…going to force myself on you. You have to tell me,” she cut off and looked away. The emotion of the moment was just too big to contain and she had to blink away some tears before she could continue. “You have to tell me that you want it.”

To Quinn, it felt like there was no air in her lungs. She tried to breathe but there was only an empty whistling sound, no relief.  She was silent for so long that Rachel feared she had misinterpreted the moment and ducked her head in shame. “Do it,” Quinn said, when she saw Rachel’s head dip. She could practically see the doubt radiating off the smaller girl and it killed her that she had caused it.

Rachel looked up so fast that Quinn thought her head might just keep going and fly right off her neck.

“What?”

Quinn drew in a shuddering breath and then let it out, fixing her determined eyes on Rachel’s. “I want you to kiss me.” It was so quiet that Rachel had to struggle to hear it, but the vulnerability and sincerity of the statement was clear. Quinn’s determinism faded into bashfulness after a few seconds and she tacked on a heartbreaking, “please.”

Rachel didn’t need to be asked more than twice. Within seconds there was no long any space between their lips. She could feel her heart swelling and rending apart even with such a gentle touch and it made her marvel at the fact that it would get _better_ when they were more passionately entangled. That understanding alone made her ache and want for it.

When Quinn tilted her head to deepen the kiss, her mouth sliding open just enough for their lips to connect more completely, she felt like they were trading souls, could almost feel hers leaving her body.

They were moving on instinct. There was no calculation in either of them. Just feeling.

For Quinn, kissing Santana had been good. But kissing Rachel was everything. It was all she was and would be and wanted to be and life and the universe and her head and heart and body were just too full and too _everything_ to even words.

Her brain died a small death and then exploded in color and a riot of glee that even the negative aspects for her mental process couldn’t override.

Neither of them were able to tell who pulled away first. It was just an organic progression of the moment. They just pulled apart slowly, their separation marked by the tiniest of noises, and then their eyes opened and they stared at each other silently.

Until Rachel just couldn’t stand it anymore and her brain, buzzing to capacity, let loose.

“We’re really remarkably similar. We’re both desperately clinging to the idea that not only are we unlovable but also to the fact that all we want is love.” She gasped a little. “And really, it’s a little absurd to think that way and we both know it, or at least I do, but that doesn’t make it easier to stop that line of thinking. I’ll have to bring this up with my therapist when we get back to our time. Oh! But I won’t remember. I wonder if there’s some sort of way I can carry along a note or something that will prompt this to become an issue for me without freaking myself out.”

“Rachel?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

Rachel smiled. She couldn’t count how many times she had heard that phrase in her life, even from Quinn Fabray. But she had never heard it with that tone or with those deep hazel eyes with blown pupils staring back at her. So yeah, this time she smiled instead of huffing and storming out. And then she leaned in to kiss some sanity back into Quinn Fabray.

**QFRB**

They really hadn’t kissed for very long before they were both feeling too tired to carry on at the pace they had set. Quinn fell into a doze first after she moved away and curled into a fetal position, her hands tightened into fists under her chin. Rachel followed, much more relaxed, only moments later.

Her head was in that heavy place where it felt like she had either been asleep for a few minutes or for a few long days. She couldn’t identify what had woken her either, until the door to the room opened, spilling light across the darkness and revealing Older Quinn in the opening.

Rachel just blinked owlishly at her for a few seconds.

“I was going to ask if you were coming down to story time, but you look really comfortable.”

“I believe Quinn needs to sleep. I don’t mind coming downstairs though.”

“No, you should stay.” Older Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over them, running her fingers though her younger self’s hair. “She’s going to wake up soon anyway.”

It was then that Rachel noticed they had shifted in their sleep, Quinn’s fetal position had fallen away and she was instead flush against Rachel with her head tucked under the shorter girl’s chin. Rachel could feel the blonde’s hot breath on her neck and it raised goose bumps all over her body. When Quinn’s body registered the hand in her hair she shifted closer, her partially open lips making contact with Rachel’s throat. Rachel gasped and stiffened and Older Quinn chuckled quietly.

“Sorry. I really like getting my head touched or my hair played with. It feels good.”

“It’s okay.”

“Well, come down if she feels like it.”

When the door closed behind the older woman, Rachel took over running her fingers through as much of the short blonde hair as she could reach. It wasn’t long before Quinn stirred against her again, this time actually waking up.

The first thing Quinn did was breathe deeply through her mouth. There was a gurgling sound that accompanied it and Rachel was pretty certain she had just been drooled on. She tilted her neck at an awkward angle in order to get a better look. Sure enough, there was a wet spot on her shirt. Rachel was interested to note that she wasn’t grossed out, but rather thought it was cute.

“Morning,” she whispered to the top of Quinn’s head when she returned her head to where it had been.

Quinn jerked then and sat up, blinking at Rachel in an entirely adorable way. “’sit mornin’?” she mumbled with her fists at her eyes and her back bowed.

Rachel grinned. “No. It’s story time.”

Quinn yawned. “Oh.”

“Do you want to go?”

The blonde nodded and then yawned again.

“You’re cute when you wake up.”

Quinn blushed and Rachel watched the pink path travel over smooth porcelain skin.

“You ready to go?” Rachel asked after Quinn just sat there for a minute, mussed hair falling over her eyes.

Blonde hair fanned out in the air when Quinn shook her head to clear the sleep fog. “I shouldn’t have slept in my contacts. I’m going to go take them out and I’ll meet you down there.”

Rachel nodded and left to make her way down to the living room. She found that everyone else had already taken all the good seats and sat down on the far end of the coffee table after taking a small bowl of popcorn from her older counterpart.

Quinn was the last to enter only a few minutes later, her glasses in place. Everyone else was fully settled in and waiting on the story to start. She was surprised to see that Nicole Lopez was curled up against Alice’s side on the love seat. She hadn’t realized that the girl was staying over, or that she was that close with Alice. She had deduced that they were friends when she had first been introduced to the girl, but looking at her mildly uncomfortable expression when Alice slung an arm over her shoulder, she thought it might be a little bit more than friendship that kept Nicole so close.

Quinn nervously sat down beside Young Rachel, careful to make sure they weren’t touching. Rachel smiled shyly at her, her cheeks just a little flushed, and reached up to tip Quinn’s glasses crooked.

They sat quietly next to each other through Older Rachel reading the second half of Winnie the Pooh at Shannon’s request. Shannon apparently favored Rachel reading because she gave the character’s voices, and had at some point perfected the voice of Pooh Bear.

When Winnie the Pooh ended, Shannon shoved a much thinner and much more raged book into Rachel’s hands. Everyone from the future, including Nicole, sighed heavily but kindly when Rachel read the title. “The Important Book,” Shannon wiggled in her mother’s lap. “The important thing about a spoon is that you eat with it. It’s like a little shovel, you hold it in your hand, you can put it in your mouth, it isn’t flat, it’s hollow, and it spoons things up. But the important thing about a spoon is that you eat with it.”

The short book carried on in the same vain for a little while, describing apples and daisies and snow. When it was over Rachel put the book aside and hugged a very sleepy Shannon to her.

“What’s the important thing about me, Mommy?” Shannon asked quietly.

“Hmm,” Rachel hummed as she thought, running her fingers gently through her youngest child’s long dark hair. “The important thing about Shannon is that she is strong.” Here Shannon sat up and flexed her biceps impressively. Sleepy laughter trickled around the room. “She is little, and she likes karate, and she loves kittens and puppies, and her favorite color is yellow, and her favorite subject is history. But the important thing about Shannon is that she is strong.”

“You have to do all of us now,” Alex insisted, scooting forward on his butt so that he was closer to the couch.

Rachel smiled indulgently at him and reached over to finger comb his messy hair. “The important thing about Alex is that he is smart. He likes airplanes, and wants to be an engineer, and he’s very good at math, and he has big hands, and he loves his moms. But the important thing about Alex is that he is smart.” Alex seemed very pleased with this assessment. He sat up straighter, affecting smugness, and glanced around importantly. Until his mother pulled on his hair and told him not to be a jerk.

“The important thing about Alice is that she is loyal.” Alice rolled her eyes a little, but not unhappily. “She’s on the honor roll, and she is a cheerleader, and she likes to dance, and she likes birds, and she has a beautiful smile. But the important thing about Alice is that she is loyal.”

“The important thing about Nicole is that she listens.” Nicole jumped at the sound of her name and sat up completely straight from where she had been leaning comfortably against Alice’s shoulder. She ducked her head bashfully and picked at the hem of her friend’s pajama pants when Older Rachel continued. “She’s a dancer, and she is Alice’s best friend, and she is allergic to sad people, and her favorite book is Peter Pan, and she doesn’t speak often. But the important thing about Nicole is that she listens.” It was hard to tell with Nicole’s darker skin-tone, but it appeared as though she was blushing. It was amazing to Rachel (and to Quinn at a lesser extent) how different Nicole was from Santana when she looked almost like a carbon copy of her. Alice grinned at her friend’s obvious embarrassment and poked her around the ribs until she was giggling and swatting at her hands.

Carmen hushed the two teens when it was clear that her turn was next. She lit up under the attention. “The important thing about Carman is that she is honest. She hates Lima, and she gets angry easily, her favorite food is peanut butter, and she loves scary movies, and she’s very talented. But the important thing about Carmen is that she is honest.”

“The important thing about Morgan is that he is funny.” Morgan looked incredulous but his mother just wrinkled her nose at him. “He lives in LA, and he wants to be an actor, and he loves to go fishing, he still picks dandelions, and he works very hard. But the important thing about Morgan is that he is funny.”

Here she paused as if she was done, but then she looked at her wife and continued with a more emotional tone. “The important thing about Quinn is that she loves me. She is witty, and she is beautiful, and she is an awe inspiring artist, and she can rap Look At Me Now perfectly, and her favorite food is bacon. But the important thing about Quinn is that she loves me.”

Older Quinn grinned almost shyly at her wife and nudged her hip with her foot.

“The important thing about Rachel is that _she_ loves _me_. She talks a lot, and she can be overly dramatic, and she is a magnificent singer, and she’s a sore loser, and she’s a vegan. But the important thing about Rachel is that _she_ loves _me.”_

The room was nearly silent. Older Rachel was wiping away tears, Older Quinn was smiling softly at her wife, and all the children were suspended in an awkward tension, like they had just seen something they shouldn’t have. Alice broke it.

“God, that was horrible. I can feel my teeth rotting as we sit here. If I get cavities from that, I’m going to be so pissed.”

Older Quinn rolled her eyes. “Morgan, smack your sister for me.”

Morgan was only too happy to comply.

“Ow. Come on Nic. I’m not going to take any of this abuse.”

Alice left the room with Nicole in tow and Older Quinn and Rachel started to wrangle Shannon up to bed as well. Carmen was interested in watching more home movies and quickly got Morgan and Alex on board. Younger Quinn begged off, citing tiredness, and after a quick glance at Rachel she left the room. Rachel claimed the same and followed the other girl’s lead.

Quinn had waited at the foot of the stairs and the smile that spread across her face when she saw Rachel leave the living room was magnificent. They walked up the stairs together and Rachel escorted Quinn to her door as she wasn’t entirely sure where she would sleep that night anyway and she didn’t want to say goodbye quite yet either.

They stood in front of the door as an awkward silence settled over them.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Quinn blurted. Her eyes were on the carpet between their feet and her voice was so quiet that Rachel had to take a few seconds to process what had actually been said.

“We just kissed a few hours ago Quinn. I don’t think-“

Quinn’s cheeks pinked and Rachel’s breath caught. “Please? I didn’t mean I wanted to do anything or…anything. I just…want you around.”

The blonde was looking up at Rachel through her long lashes and the brunette felt her heart stutter in response. How would she ever say no to this woman? Especially when she used lines like that. “Okay.”

Quinn smiled shyly and looked away. “I’m…gonna go use the restroom.”

“Okay.”

Rachel watched Quinn walk away, her eyes slowly drifting down over her back and to her ass before she caught herself and turned away, fumbling for the doorknob to Morgan’s old room.

She closed the door behind her and leaned back on it after flicking the light on absentmindedly. Her hands cupped her hot flushing cheeks in an attempt to cool them but it didn’t seem to help. She could just feel everything. Her body was alive with sensation, just from looking at Quinn’s cute bashful face. Everything that had seemed so intimidating about the blonde had been replaced with something crushingly adorable.

She moved her hands to cover her full face and then down to press over where her heart was trying to chisel through bone and leap out of her chest.

When she managed to take a deep breath she stepped away from the door and dropped onto the bed, not bothering to pull the covers back. Rolling onto her belly, she pressed her face into the pillow and squealed loudly, flailing her arms and kicking her feet in a mild fit of excitement and happiness. After about thirty seconds of vigorous activity she relaxed completely and turned her head to face the door.

Quinn was taking similar advantage of her privacy to jump up and down in celebration in the bathroom. She had stuffed part of her hand in her mouth to keep from screaming with joy and/or extreme giddiness. Once she calmed down through the use of deep breathing and splashing her face with cold water she was able to leave the room and walk back to Morgan’s without losing her composure.

She entered the room just as Rachel turned her head to look at the door and it occurred to her that she probably should have knocked and had only gotten lucky that time that Rachel wasn’t in some compromising position. She wondered if that’s why everyone knocked in this house, because she certainly didn’t get that consideration at her own.

“Quinn?”

Quinn jumped at the sound of her name and realized she’d been standing silently in the door way like creeper for too long. “Uh, maybe you should get under the covers.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll get the lights.”

Rachel pulled back the sheets with shaking hands and Quinn raised an equally trembling appendage to flick off the lights, throwing the room into darkness.

Rachel was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to feel like a new bride when it was fully understood by both of them that they were just going to sleep.

She climbed in between the sheets first and got close to the wall while she waited for Quinn to follow her lead.

When Quinn had stumbled back to the bed and fumbled her way under the sheets, her inner turmoil strikingly similar to her bed mate’s, she tried to find a way to get comfortable that didn’t involve her facing Rachel right away.

It didn’t work and so she ended up facing the other girl, her flushed cheeks mercifully hidden by the lack of light.

Rachel stared at the blonde’s face in the dark, completely aware of hazel eyes thoroughly cataloguing her own features. They had stared at each other in similar ways before, but never before in the dark, lying next to each other on a tiny bed with the memory of an earthshattering kiss still fresh in their minds. They were both surprised that their mouths weren’t fused together every available second.

Quinn really wanted to test Santana’s hypothesis about Rachel’s breath control.

“You look so different without makeup,” the brunette whispered into the still air before the blonde could act on her impulses.

Quinn groaned. “Ugh, I know. I look horrible.” She moved her hands from under her chin to cover her face but Rachel grabbed them and held her at bay.

“No you don’t. Stop saying things like that. You’re so pretty all the time. This is just a different pretty. You’re, I don’t know…softer. More accessible.” She reached up and cradled Quinn’s face in her palms and drew a sigh out of the other girl. That one sigh launched a thorough exploration of the blonde’s face with Rachel’s fingers, starting with her perfect cheekbones and then over the perfect bridge of her nose and to the arch of her eyebrows and so on. Rachel explored with a quiet intensity that made Quinn breathe faster than normal and made her heart ache in her chest. In the process of tracing the underside of the blonde’s jaw that she felt a round dip in the soft skin. “What’s this?” Rachel trailed her finger over the spot again.

Quinn’s breathing was still erratic, but she managed to answer. “Scar. From chicken pox. I had it when I was three and then again when I was five. The second time was a lot worse. There’s a few more in other places, on my back and chest mostly. There’s one here on my shoulder.” She pointed the area out and Rachel could barely see the eraser sized mark in the dark.

Quinn didn’t know how it was possible to tremble harder than she already was, but when Rachel finished tracing the outline of her face, finished setting fire to her skin, and cupped her cheeks again, she felt like she was about to shake apart. “Will you kiss me goodnight?” she asked in a tiny voice. She was too scared by her own feelings to open her eyes, but she could feel Rachel’s breath on her cheek and then at the corner of her mouth and then directly over her lips. Quinn licked them reflexively and got a taste of Rachel in the air.

Rachel gave her a sweet chaste kiss. It only lasted a few fleeting seconds, but it sent her soul spiraling into the sky.

“Good night, Quinn.”

“Good night, Rachel.”

**QFRB**

_Forget my way back home_  
When you walk by me.  
This girl is gonna break my heart  
And there’s nothing I can do about it.


	11. A Fabulous Disaster

_Forever crawls_  
Can’t someone make it crawl faster?  
You shattered my walls  
A fabulous disaster

**QFRB**

Quinn woke up with fingers in her hair and warm, smooth, soft skin under her palms. She could feel Rachel’s deep, even breaths ghosting over her neck, and the tickle of silky brown hair on her cheek and nose. Their legs were tangled and their upper bodies were pressed flush. They had shifted in their sleep somehow so that she was mostly underneath Rachel’s soft, sleep warm body. Her hands were under Rachel’s shirt, flat on her back, and anchoring the two of them together.

It was perfect.

She lay there in wonderful, Rachel scented, contentment for a while, letting her brain choose whether wakefulness or more sleep would be better. Just as she was tipping over back into dreamland a thought from the back of her mind swirled up between her ears and rattled and shook like a cartoon alarm clock.

There was no way it should feel so perfect.

Quinn’s body tensed immediately, following half a second after her emotions. She was automatically preparing herself for the letdown. Nothing that felt this good ever lasted long, not for her. So what if there was evidence just down the hallway that pointed to continued happiness? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real. It was all an allusion of what could be not what would be. Feeling good, loving the moment, expectations. Those things were for fools.

Quinn wasn’t a fool. She knew it was easier to never expect too much, that way you could never be disappointed.

An insistent wrap of knuckles on the door drew Quinn’s eyes and thoughts away from Rachel, until Rachel groaned unhappily at the noise. “If you two lovebirds aren’t too worn out from last night, it’s time to go run.”

Even though Older Quinn couldn’t see them, or their compromising position, Quinn flushed and jerked her hands out from under Rachel’s top. She tried to roll away from Rachel, but the smaller girl wasn’t having it.

“No,” she whined, moving her hold from Quinn hair to her waist and wrapping her arms tighter around the blonde so that she couldn’t escape as easily. “Don’t go.” Rachel hummed and curled closer, which Quinn wouldn’t have thought possible if it hadn’t just happened. “You’re warm.”

“It’s time to get up,” Quinn whispered even as her heart swelled in her chest. She knew Rachel was probably still mostly asleep and groggy, and so she wasn’t entirely in control of her actions, but it was still refreshing to hear someone ask her to stay with them. Hope threatened to choke out her wariness.

“No,” Rachel whined pathetically. Quinn wouldn’t have found that sort of behavior attractive at all usually, but she was warm and Rachel was cuddling up to her and breathing on her neck, and that endeared her to it just enough.

“You’re going to miss working out,” Quinn tried to point out. It was a weakly fought battle and Rachel could smell it like blood in the water.

She pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of Quinn’s neck, sucking just a little and pulling a squeak out of the throat under her lips. “We could still work out.”

The words themselves were innocent, but the hands that had previously just been minding their own business attached to the arms wrapped around Quinn’s waist were suddenly under her sweater, tickling gently over the skin of her belly and sides. Quinn was ticklish, but Rachel wasn’t exerting enough pressure to throw her into laughter. Only enough to make the muscles of her stomach twitch nervously.

“Uh,” Quinn coughed. She hurriedly stilled Rachel’s hands under her shirt and then pulled them out from under it completely. “I, um, I’m not…” She couldn’t concentrate. Rachel’s mouth was doing sinful things to her neck and jaw. She arched unwittingly under the assault and flushed in embarrassment when she moaned from the back of her throat. When Rachel answered with her own low sound, Quinn felt like her skin was so hot it might just melt and slide right off. “Rachel, please,” Quinn tried again.

That did nothing to deter her. If anything, it actually made Rachel’s actions more aggressive. Her hips rolled and Quinn thought she might just fly apart in a million little pieces.

“Oh God,” Quinn groaned when Rachel did it again. “Rachel,” she tried to wiggle away but Rachel followed, “stop!”

It wasn’t what Quinn said, but her raised voice, that actually got through to Rachel. She pulled away quickly, gasping in big gulps of air. “What? What’s wrong?” She was confused. One second Quinn had been writing under her, moaning and sighing, and the next she was telling her to stop and pulling away.

As soon as Rachel had pulled back, Quinn sat up in bed and turned away, draping her legs over the side of the mattress in case she needed a quick getaway.

After observing Quinn’s body language, realization dawned on Rachel and she leaned forward on her knees in order to get closer to the blonde. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you, I swear,” Rachel insisted.

Quinn looked down purposefully to avoid Rachel’s eyes and nodded.

“I’m serious, Quinn. I wouldn’t ever, ever do that. You can trust me.”

Quinn took a shuddering breath. “I don’t have an easy time trusting people, Rachel.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? You might think you do, but I don’t think you really know what that means. I know I’ve hurt a lot of people in my life. I’ve hurt you, so much.”

“You were hurt a lot too. I’m sure I don’t know everything you’ve gone through, but just what I do know is too much for someone so young.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed in distaste. “That makes me sound like some sort of badly written inspirational movie. No one’s life is easy; I have it better than a lot of people. Having a hard life isn’t an excuse. The older you was right. I’m a weak person.”

Rachel didn’t know what to say. In the first place, she wasn’t entirely sure how the conversation had gone in the direction it had. She also didn’t know how to respond to others’ self-deprecation. On one hand, Quinn didn’t seem to be fishing for compliments, she wasn’t the type in general, and usually one reacted by denying the self-deprecating statements of the other person. She couldn’t though, not in good conscience. She knew what would become of Quinn and it did make her seem weak. But she could also very clearly see what Quinn was apparently unable to. Quinn had strength inside her, buried deep under insecurity and self-doubt. She settled on sliding her hand over Quinn’s clenched ones and squeezing gently. “You’re really better than you know, Quinn.”

Quinn just sighed. She tried not to feel flattered, but with Rachel’s big honest eyes boring into her soul it was hard not to.

Rachel watched the emotions flicker through Quinn’s eyes for a long quiet moment. When the blonde’s shoulders had relaxed a significant amount, Rachel felt comfortable enough to push Quinn down on the bed and cuddle up next to her. She ignored the surprised squeak that Quinn let out and settled with her head under the taller girl’s chin. “Talk to me about books.”

**QFRB**

They didn’t go running. They didn’t make out either.

Instead they lay there in comfortable companionship and Quinn talked about some of her favorite books when she was growing up. Rachel hadn’t read very much recreationally, and she kind of regretted not being as well read as Quinn obviously was.

She was more than happy to admit that watching Quinn get so involved in talking about something she clearly had an interest in was a bit of a turn on. Quinn being a real person was a turn on. Rachel almost laughed, but she didn’t want Quinn to think she wasn’t paying attention (she was, she was!!). It made sense that she was most attracted to Quinn when she was being honest. When her face was open and her eyes were shiny and her words held vulnerability, that’s when Rachel felt most connected to her. It’s when she felt like Quinn was an actual human and not an angel.

“Are you even listening?”

Rachel started. “Of course!”

“What did I just say?” Quinn laughed at Rachel’s wide panicked eyes. She wouldn’t have expected that she would be able to use the same tricks on Rachel that she did on all her boyfriends. Rachel stammered for a few seconds before Quinn took pity on her. She leaned forward and left a quick kiss on Rachel’s left cheek, and then the right, and then her forehead. “I’ll forgive you this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel apologized anyway.

“They’re going to be back soon. We should occupy the showers before they get a chance to use all the hot water.”

Rachel shook her head fitfully and burrowed against Quinn’s side. “No, no, it’s cold out there. Let’s just stay right here and be warm and that way Alice won’t bother us and we can do that kissing thing again.”

Quinn smiled shyly at Rachel’s suggestion. Her big, shiny eyes made a good argument in her favor. “I’m okay with the kissing thing.”

Rachel bit her lip. She leaned in slowly, her eyes flicking between Quinn’s eyes and lips. Quinn felt her breath hitch suddenly. She didn’t know how she could be so affected by the tension between them still, but it set her heart racing just the same.

Their lips met softly. Rachel took the lead in a gentle exploration that felt, to Quinn, like it spanned only seconds and a decade at the same time. When Rachel pulled away, with a quiet popping sound, Quinn was so dazedly pleased that she didn’t notice Rachel get off the bed.

“I get first shower,” the brunette announced as soon as she was free of the tangle of covers.

This announcement startled Quinn into awareness and she lurched off the bed, caught around the ankles with the sheets, after the other girl. “Hey! No, that was my idea!”

Rachel just giggled and bolted from the room with just enough head start that she made it to the bathroom and had the door fully closed before Quinn made it into the hall.

Quinn lay in wait, totally ignoring Alice and Older Quinn’s return in favor of skulking around the bathroom door. Alice stared at her like she was crazy, and insisted that she get the next shower. Quinn didn’t care. She just knew that she was going to pounce on Rachel as soon as she exited.

She did. Rachel squealed so loudly that Quinn dissolved into a fit of laughter that nearly made her wet herself. Rachel was not amused or impressed but Quinn’s amazing control of her bladder.

Breakfast, in comparison to the pre-breakfast shenanigans, was fairly quiet. Alex was mostly asleep, with his nose dipping dangerously close to his breakfast, as usual. Shannon was equally as tired, but she just slouched in her chair. Everyone else was awake, but Morgan and Alice were far less chipper about it. Stacks of pancakes disappeared quickly. Nicole had gone on the morning run, but was missing from breakfast, since her house was on the route that Quinn and Alice ran.

Older Rachel and Carmen dominated the conversation, with occasional quiet input from Older Quinn. Most of them were just focused on delicious pancakes.

“What time are you leaving?” Older Quinn asked suddenly when a lull fell over the conversation.

“Eager to get rid of us, are you?” Morgan caught on.

“Extremely.”

Morgan laughed. “I’m hurt.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” Quinn replied, jabbing at the air in his direction with her fork.

He pulled a puppy-dog face and clasped his hands over his heart. “We’ll be leaving at two, so this is good bye Mother.”

Quinn snorted. “Bye, don’t come back until you’re famous.”

“I’ll have you know that three paparazzo have accosted me since I moved to LA,” Morgan claimed with pride.

“Wow, three,” Carmen mocked. Morgan stuck his tongue out at her.

“Anyway,” he continued, “we won’t be here when you get back for dinner. I’m assuming you just wanted to know if you were making us dinner.”

“You assume correctly, sir.”

Alice hummed happily. “It’s so nice that you won’t be here when Seth comes by.”

Older Quinn scoffed. “You would like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going back to the shop after dinner tonight,” Older Quinn announced. Alice scowled immediately.

“Oh? And to what do we owe this pleasure. Do you just want to tease poor Seth with the gun? Because I can do that just as well as you,” Older Rachel informed her wife.

Morgan snorted into his milk. “Uh, Mom, you’re really pretty terrible at it.”

Older Rachel smacked the back of Morgan’s head, not taking her expectant gaze off her wife.

“Actually,” Older Quinn began slowly, with a forkful of egg hanging in the air, “I’ve been thinking of cutting back my hours now that Landry is done with training.”

All action at the table halted and all eyes shifted between Older Quinn and Older Rachel, just waiting for something to happen.

“Are you serious?” Older Rachel asked quietly.

Older Quinn finally ate the bit of egg she had speared and nodded silently. Younger Quinn was already tensed and waiting to see if Older Rachel would just rocket right over the table and tackle hug her older self, but she didn’t. She just smiled, beamed, and ducked her head toward her breakfast again. All the kids were smiling too and no one said anything more about it.

When breakfast was done the children were put on clean up duty and the older women escaped the kitchen. Young Rachel was not attempting to find them. She had been sent to the laundry room to throw the used rags in the hamper and she didn’t see anything on the way there. On her way back to the kitchen she heard voices coming from Older Rachel’s office/ trophy room.

She wasn’t a nosy person.

Okay, that was a lie, she was very nosy. She didn’t even try to reign in her curiosity. When she pushed the door to the office open a little more she found the older women engaged in a heavy make out session against the side of the desk.

“Oh!” she covered her eyes and turned around immediately. “Sorry to interrupt.” Curiosity did kill the cat, or scare her for life. Whichever.

Loud laughter behind her gave her the courage to take a peek at what was happening. Older Quinn had removed her hands from under Older Rachel’s top, and had them resting innocently on her parted thighs. She hadn’t moved otherwise.

“Don’t worry about it,” Older Quinn insisted. “I need to go get ready for work,” she finished, placing one more kiss at the corner of her wife’s mouth. She patted Younger Rachel on the shoulder as she left and winked at her.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” Rachel iterated.

Older Rachel hummed happily and kicked her feet. “Like Quinn said, don’t worry about it. We’ll have plenty of time for that later. Come here.”

Rachel ended up sitting beside her older self on the desk, also kicking her feet. “Did you want something?”

“I know you’ve been carrying around a few questions. I thought now would be as good a time as any to answer them.”

Rachel didn’t reply for a few minutes. She did want to know some things. The other day, spending time with Finn after everything that had happened, it worried her, and made her curious.

“What’s it going to be like when we go back? How can I just forget all of this?”

Older Rachel sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t even know. I remember going back and it was just like nothing had happened. I can also remember the way you feel now. It’s just so confusing and…heart wrenching. Feeling all of it again…I don’t know, it makes me very anxious and upset.”

“I’ve already rearranged my entire future plan because of all this. It’s not fair that I have to forget it.”

“Ah, but since when is life fair?” Older Rachel nudged her shoulder playfully. “When you go back, all this feeling you’re feeling will just…go away. You’ll go right back to how you felt before. Madly in love with Finn and with no thoughts of anything else.”

“It sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

Older Rachel laughed again. “It was stupid. It just takes perspective to see it that way. You’re going to briefly turn into one of those girls we hate. The kind that lives only for her boyfriend and hangs on his every word and only has worth in him.” Rachel looked at her in horror. “It’s not for long though. You’ll snap out of it. Now that I’ve remembered everything, I know it was just because everything felt so awkward. I kind of forced myself to feel the way I felt that I was _supposed_ to.”

“I can’t even comprehend that sort of behavior. I don’t understand how I can feel all of this and then suddenly not. It’s so counterintuitive.”

“I don’t think the human brain is built to understand it. For all that it does for us; it’s a very simple machine in comparison to the whole universe.”

“When do we break up with Finn?”

“Not until the end of the year. It’ll get to a point that you just can’t pretend everything is wonderful anymore.”

Rachel ducked her head into her hands in frustration. “What is the point of all this? I don’t understand.”

Older Rachel reached out and rubbed her younger self’s back. “I don’t know what the point is. Maybe there isn’t a point. Maybe the point is for me and not you. I don’t know if we’re going to forget everything too when you leave. I just don’t know.”

“This is awful.”

“Well, I feel like it’s turned out alright so far.”

**QFRB**

Older Quinn ran down the hall not long after, yelling about how she couldn’t find any matching socks. Older Rachel rolled her eyes and wandered out to help and Rachel went back to the kitchen where Morgan was entertaining Quinn, Shannon and Alice with impersonations.

Quinn didn’t see her enter and so there was no reason for her to think before offering her own impersonation of Sylvester Stallone. It was terrible, but that wasn’t all that disappointing to Rachel. Instead she found it endearing.

Older Quinn bounced into the kitchen, alerting Young Quinn to the fact that Rachel had been standing there. While the younger flushed from her roots to her neck, the older was busy depositing sloppy kisses all over Morgan’s face. He didn’t bother trying to escape.

“I knew you were sad to see me go.”

“Don’t gloat. Now where’s your sister?”

“Right here!” Shannon cheered, jumping in place and then tackle-hugging her mother around the waist.

“I meant the eldest, but you’ll do too.”

Older Quinn made her rounds with goodbyes, spending more time with Carmen when she finally found her, and then rushed out the door when she realized that she was running late.

As soon as her red car pulled out of the drive way, Older Rachel turned to the room at large where they had all gathered. She put her hands on her hips and declared, “Time to decorate,” and the room flew in to a flurry of activity.

“What are we doing?” Quinn asked.

“Christmas decorating,” Alice supplied as she rushed by.

“Thanksgiving just ended.”

“Yeah, but Morgan won’t be back until Christmas Eve, and Carmen is getting out of school two days into Hanukah.”

Morgan and Alex brought in huge boxes of Christmas decorations and a gigantic fake Christmas tree that they had to drag in together. Carmen, Alice and Older Rachel rearranged the furniture in the living room to make room for the tree. Young Rachel and Quinn helped Shannon take down the current décor and store it away in some empty boxes that the youngest child had pulled out of the hall closet.

The tree went up first. Carmen and both Rachels were meticulous in the spreading of the branches while Morgan attempted to untangle the plugs and figure out which sockets they met up with. The branches were done first and so young Rachel made her way over to where Quinn was looking through the ornaments on the other side of the room. Alex and Shannon had been sorting them with her, but they had dissolved into a squabble at some point, and Alex was busy trying to keep Shannon’s fists away from his face.

“How do you feel about Christmas?” Rachel said, in lieu of a greeting.

Quinn jumped and nearly dropped the ornament she was holding. Rachel grinned apologetically. “I like it okay. Why?”

“I just wondered. Finn loves it, as I’m sure you’re aware. I’m not too crazy about it. When I was younger I didn’t think it was fair that we got out of school for Christmas and not for Hanukah. I’m slightly less petty now.”

Quinn took a moment to fiddle with the ornament. It was a little glazed snowman. “I used to really love it, when I was a kid. I guess that before I understood how awful my family was to each other. I kind of learned to dread any holiday that involved the extended family gathering.” She hung the snow man. “I like the message in general though, a time of giving.”

“What’s your favorite then?”

It took Quinn a second to realize that Rachel was talking about holidays in general. “Halloween.”

“Really? Why?”

Quinn swallowed down the immediate urge to deflect Rachel’s attention away from the topic. It was a conscious effort to keep her walls down. No one would hurt her here. “I’ll take any excuse to not be myself for a while.” She looked up to see Rachel’s wide soulful eyes focused on her. “Also, candy.”

Rachel stepped closer to Quinn and gently led her into a hug. Quinn returned the embrace and rested her cheek on top of Rachel’s head. “I like you as Quinn the best,” Rachel confessed quietly. Quinn squeezed her tighter.

“Thank you.”

Alice, the eternal ‘moment ruiner’ had to appear next to them a few seconds later. “What are you doing over here? Come on, we only have a few hours before Morgan and Carmen leave.”

The tree was decorated in a specific pattern every year. First they worked out the lights, and then everyone put on the regular ornaments. Then the specials came out. These were the ones that had been made by all the kids in school and that were specific to each of them. They all had their own boxes, all the same size, but Morgan and Carmen’s were stuffed while the others had more room. They went in order of birth, so Morgan’s box was first.

“Oh!” Older Rachel exclaimed happily as she carefully lifted the first ornament out of the box. It was a silver baby rattle. She touched Morgan’s arm with her free hand. “Your first Christmas,” she said in a tearful voice.

Morgan chuckled quietly and rubbed her back comfortingly. “I was a month old.”

Older Rachel nodded and wiped a tear from under her eye. “I’m sorry. I just get so nostalgic when we do this.”

“I know Mom.”

“My little boy is all grown up.” She began to cry in earnest and Morgan allowed her to cling to him, shooting an amused smile over her shoulder at his siblings and the time travelers.

“Does she do this every time?” Quinn asked Carmen in a nervous whisper.

“Yep. At every single ornament.” She laughed at Quinn’s horrified expression. “It’s one reason she waits until you’re gone to do this. Hope you’re comfortable. We’re going to be here awhile.”

They were there awhile. At least an hour, but it turned out to be a little fun for Quinn and a lot of fun for both the Rachels. Every ornament that the children had made in school was put on the tree until the well-ordered tree was a riot of color. Hardly any branch was bare except the point.

The tree topper, a bright golden star, was put on by Shannon. Morgan lifted her up by the waist and the youngest child carefully settled the ornament and made sure it didn’t shift around.

They all stood back to proudly admire their work.

“So,” Young Rachel glanced down the line, “do we sing carols now or what?”

**QFRB**

After a few giggly (courtesy of Shannon and Alex, who were getting along again) renditions of classic carols, the family split up to do different things. Morgan and Carmen went to finish packing; Alex was put in charge of putting the empty boxes back in storage. Shannon begged, with a pout and a whine that would make even the hardest heart melt into a puddle, for Quinn to play with her dollhouse again. Alice disappeared to do homework and Older Rachel wandered off, still a little teary over the decorating. Young Rachel managed to escape Shannon’s wheedling by hiding out in Rachel’s office. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with the youngest child; she just didn’t really see the appeal of playing with dolls. Even when she was young all her Barbies had been just as obsessed with future stardom as she was during the rare times she actually played with them. They also made up part of her audience, along with her stuffed animals, when she gave amateur concerts.

“Hey.”

Rachel jerked around in surprise and nearly elbowed Carmen right in the stomach. The other girl managed to step back fast enough to avoid getting hit. “Uh…hi.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow and stepped up beside Rachel to look over the trophy case too.

They stood in silence for what felt like a long time to Rachel, just looking at the case. When the curiosity got to be too much she decided to let it out. “Did you need something?”

“I was looking for my mom, actually.”

“Do you need help looking for her?”

“No, she’s probably just up in Momma’s studio trying to find out what she needs for Christmakkah.”

“I thought no one was allowed in there.”

“They’re not, not even Mom. She’s just breaking the rules.” Carmen winked. “Don’t tell.” Rachel shook her head franticly and Carmen chuckled. She leaned over and put her head on Rachel’s shoulder for a few seconds before she stood up straight again. Rachel felt like she had been granted some sort of honor. “You’re pretty cute, past Mom. Sorry I was such a bitch when we first met.”

“Oh no! It’s not a problem at all! The situation was very surprising. We do look quite similar.”

Carmen shrugged. She took a few steps back and then walked around the desk to sit on top in a position that closely mirrored where her mother had been sitting earlier that morning. Rachel cut that thought off quickly so she didn’t start to blush and then followed Carmen’s lead and sat beside her.

“I want to tell you something,” Carmen said suddenly.

Rachel jerked in surprise at the forceful tone, but nodded.

“Don’t ever tell anyone I said this,” Carmen warned seriously and then waited for Rachel to nod again, “but I’m really jealous of Alice sometimes.” She looked down in shame, twisting her hands together in the only show of nerves that Rachel had seen from her. “I mean, we all have these huge expectations on us, not just from you…or, I mean our parents, but like from the world. I know it might not seem like it in Ohio, but my mom is pretty well known. She wasn’t just on Broadway, though that’s what she did mostly. There were some movies and a television show or two. We kind of grew up in the spotlight. I was always really mad that they didn’t let me do any acting or anything while I was a kid. I’m kind of still mad about it, actually. Anyway, we were kind of like the new Jolie-Pitt kids, only they called us the Fababies.” She rolled her eyes and Rachel giggled. “So everyone is kind of looking at us to be the next big thing or something, and it’s just a lot of pressure. Don’t get me wrong, I love performing. And one of my biggest goals is to somehow outshine my mother, which will be difficult. But I feel like Alice has it a little easier sometimes. She doesn’t give a fuck about expectation, ya know? Like, she’s not going to be some sort of bum or anything, but she’s living her life for herself and she just makes it look so easy.” Carmen sighed heavily.

Rachel tentatively put her arm around her future daughter’s shoulders. Carmen relaxed against her right away and Rachel was able to be surer of her actions as well.

“I know she hates me,” Carmen whispered after a moment.

Rachel felt Carmen’s words hit her right in the heart. The tone, the message, the way she held on tighter as she said it, it was like she was talking to herself. She knew how Carmen felt exactly. Hadn’t she even said something similar to Quinn on the day they arrived in the future. “She doesn’t _hate_ you,” Rachel insisted. “She loves you. You’re her sister. She just doesn’t like you as a person very much.”

Carmen snorted in laughter. “Being famous is definitely going to help you grow some tact.”

Rachel flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you’re right, of course.” She grinned at Rachel. “I’m going to go find my mom now.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe you should stare at the awards a little less. I think you’re starting to wear through the glass.”

Rachel jumped up and stared closely at the glass. “Am I really?” Carmen’s bark of laughter startled her away from the case.

“If you want to touch them, you just have to ask.  We’ve all held them. Mom just keeps them locked up so they don’t get lost or broken.”

“Let’s go find your mom right now!” Rachel grabbed Carmen by the arm and dragged her out of the room. There was no way she was going to wait any longer to hold those priceless statues.

**QFRB**

Quinn came home on time and had already picked up pizza before Young Rachel was ready to stop picking up varies awards and pictures and asking for the stories behind them. Morgan and Carmen ended up leaving late because they got engrossed in hearing the stories again, but they had gone and made it to the airport on time.

Young Rachel reluctantly parted from the first Tony she would win with a final pet.

It wasn’t necessary to set the table that night. Dinner on Fridays was eaten in the living room in front of the TV with less conversation and on paper plates. There wasn’t even an argument about what to watch. Two episodes of Paranormal Circus with Sam Evans were the custom.

It was a little anticlimactic for Rachel and Quinn, who had curled up on the loveseat together.

After the episodes were over and everyone was done eating there was only a little clean up that Alex volunteered to take care of.

Shannon scampered off to play some more and potentially bother her older brother.

When Alice was the last one left Older Rachel decided to let out her excitement that had been building up over dinner. “My little baby is going on her first date tonight!” She squealed happily. She held Alice to her side and rocked her back and forth. Alice allowed this for about ten seconds before she broke away laughing.

“Really?” Rachel asked. “You’ve never been on a date before?”

“Nope,” Older Quinn answered for Alice, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “Alice has never gone on a date before.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never really had any interest in anyone before,” Alice admitted quietly. “Most people just don’t bother asking though. I made it clear that I didn’t really trust anyone’s motives when they had interest in me. Seth is different. I’ve known him for a really long time. And,” she gestured at Older Quinn and Rachel, “they’re friends with his dad, so we have family dinners and get-togethers sometimes.”

“Never though?”

“I had dates for Homecoming and stuff, but they were just my escorts. I usually took guys from Glee club that didn’t have girlfriends. Never Jericho though.” She shuddered.

“Thank God for that. Alice is definitely the one we don’t have to worry about. Morgan always had really questionable taste in girls,” Older Rachel told them.

“As much fun as this is,” Alice drawled, “I have to go get ready for my date,” her voice rose into an excited squeak and she jumped in place.

“You’ll be home by eleven.”

Alice’s happy smile dimmed. “Midnight.”

“Ten thirty.”

“Momma!”

“Ten.”

“You’re not being fair.” She stomped a foot.

“Nine thirty.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“You’re not too old to spank, young lady.”

Older Rachel, perhaps sensing the impending useless argument, climbed onto her wife’s lap without warning. She sank her fingers into shaggy blonde locks and sealed her mouth over Older Quinn’s before the woman could protest. “Am I too old to spank?” she husked when she pulled away.

Older Quinn’s eyelids drooped and her hands rose to cup her wife’s ass. “Nope.”

“Oh, gross,” Alice muttered. She took the distraction for what it was, an opportunity to escape, and marched out of the room with a scowl.

“Be home by eleven,” Older Rachel called to her retreating daughter.

Young Rachel had been close enough to hear the conversation and flushed scarlet at the implications, alerting Quinn to the fact that something was going on and she hadn’t noticed it.

“What?” She looked between the older couple and the younger brunette in confusion. They’re position was compromising, but no more so than what they had already been privy too. “What’s going on?”

Rachel stood suddenly, her face still bright with color. “Nothing!”

And then she followed Alice’s example and left the room in a flurry.

Curious, and not exactly eager to watch the older women make out shamelessly, Quinn followed Rachel’s flustered exit and caught up to her in the stairwell. “What was that all about?” she asked in honest curiosity with nothing else coloring her tone.

Which is why she was surprised enough to stumble down several steps when Rachel rounded on her with fiery eyes. She corrected herself when she noted that Rachel didn’t seem angry, just flushed, and stopped on the stair right below Rachel so they were at eye level.

Rachel launched into what was sure to be a long rant as soon as Quinn had steadied herself. “I recognize that we have tentatively entered into the kissing stage of our relationship,” here they both blushed and Quinn had to keep her eyes busy with the wall next to them so that she could actually pay attention to what Rachel was saying instead of just staring at her mouth. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m entirely comfortable seeing the future of our physical relationship displayed in front of me like that. Older Rachel told me, the first day we arrived, that I would feel this way, but actually feeling it is just…” she trailed off and flailed her hands in the absence of the appropriate words. “I know,” she continued before Quinn could say anything, “that we’ve had sex. I mean, we have five children so of course we have.” She paused and Quinn’s complete mortification settled in quickly. She wasn’t much better off than Rachel was if the deepening flush on the shorter girl’s cheeks was to be trusted. Rachel took a shaky breath. “Well actually, that doesn’t necessarily have to be the case. It’s quite within the realm of possibility that we haven’t, but I’d hate to think that I would stay in a sexless marriage for nearly thirty years.”

“We’ve had sex,” Quinn blurted. There was so much blood in her face she felt a little bit like she was a pressurized container. The memory of what she had listened in on the other day was still fresh and highly traumatizing.

Even though they had worked through a lot, even though there had been kissing, a lot of kissing, Quinn was still so worried about saying too much, or the wrong thing, or moving too fast and scaring Rachel away. The truth of the matter was that she just had so much inside of her, beating like her pulse, just under her skin and aching to get out. She’s never been good with feelings. Talking about them, exploring them, actually feeling them. It’s foreign to have them so thoroughly evoked and for her to be relaxed enough to allow it in the first place.

“Right.” Rachel pursed her lips in hopes of keeping any other embarrassing things inside her. She shook her head. “Anyway, it was uncomfortable.”

“We can just…not go in there for a while.”

“Yeah.”

“What did they say anyway?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Quinn went down a few steps and sat. “Would you like to join me on my step? Maybe we can check every so often to see when they’re separated again.”

Once the living room was deemed safe, Rachel and Quinn joined themselves in watching some sort of reality show about the true lives of octogenarians. Quinn found that her automatic reaction was to tilt her head and squint. She couldn’t ever remember her grandparents being so feisty and ready to throw potted cacti at people.

As it got closer to seven, the tension in the entire house seemed to rise, but it wasn’t until five ‘til that Alice actually came downstairs to add her anxiety to the mix. She walked in to the living room with a nervous smile fixed on her face and her fingers tugging at the hem of her dress.

“So? What do you think?” She did a twirl to show off her outfit. “I asked Nic, but she’s been acting weird lately, so I asked the people that follow my blog and they liked this one best.”

Alice was wearing a sleeveless green and white plaid dress with a sweetheart neckline that stopped just below her knees, a matching green belt to cinch in the waist, white tights and a pair of tan oxfords that had, oddly enough, purple soles. She had a dark denim jacket over her arm that she tossed on the back of the sofa while she waited for a verdict.

“You look really nice,” Rachel offered first. Alice beamed at her.

“You look great, Sweetie,” Older Rachel agreed. Older Quinn didn’t say anything, but Alice was avoiding looking at her anyway.

“Aren’t you going to be cold, though?” Quinn asked, pulling at the hem gently.

“Probably, but here’s hoping that Seth isn’t a total idiot that has planned something for outdoors.”

 “Seth is a good boy,” Older Rachel admonished. “I’m sure he’s planned something very thoughtful.”

Alice rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Mom.”

The next two minutes were tense. Alice didn’t actually pace, but her attempts at conversation with Older Rachel and the time travelers was painful. It was a relief for everyone to hear the doorbell ring right on time.

Alice was the first to the door and she threw her jacket on quickly, shaking out her hair, while younger Rachel and Quinn settled on the bottom step. Quinn heard the sound of quiet footsteps overhead and turned around in time to see Shannon and Alex creeping down the stairs so they could hear what was happening but also stay out of sight.

Alice reached for the door knob but was stopped by Older Quinn collaring her and leading her away from the door.

When she was let loose she stumbled but didn’t fall. Older Quinn pointed at the stairs commandingly. Alice scowled but retreated to stand next to the time travelers silently, her arms crossed over her chest. Older Rachel rolled her eyes at the scene and opened the front door.

Seth Puckerman stood about five feet from the door, as if he had anticipated needing to defend himself from attack. He was of average height, lean and clean cut. He was dressed sharply for a fifteen year old boy, and all his clothes matched.

“Hello Seth,” Rachel greeted warmly.

“Good evening, Mrs. Fabray. It’s always wonderful to see you.”

“Seth, honey, you can still call me Rachel,” Rachel told him as she patted his back. He smiled bashfully and looked at his feet for a few seconds before turning his gentle gaze to Older Quinn.

She didn’t look impressed. “You can call me Mrs. Fabray.”

Seth swallowed hard. “Yes ma’am.”

Older Rachel slapped Older Quinn’s arm. “Quinn! Really.”

“Okay, I think you’ve scared him enough,” Alice broke through. She grabbed Seth’s upper arm and steered him back to the door. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“Eleven!” Older Quinn yelled after her. Alice waved flippantly without looking back, but Seth actually tried to turn around without removing himself from Alice’s grip and nodded franticly to show he understood.

Both of them stood at the open door until Alice climbed into her car, Seth following her quickly and fumbling with his seat belt. This satisfied Older Rachel and she turned away, leaving Older Quinn in the door way with a comforting squeeze to her shoulder. Older Quinn didn’t move. She just stood there with her arms still crossed and watched until Alice’s car had disappeared from sight, and then just a little longer.

Rachel and Quinn watched her from the bottom step, their fingers linked and Rachel’s head on Quinn’s shoulder.

**QFRB**

Story time was a very sedate affair. It was supposed to be Alice’s turn to pick the story, but since she was absent, Alex was moved ahead and they all listened to another few chapters of Harry Potter, once again dressed for the part.

Quinn wasn’t exactly sure why she was in Ravenclaw. There wasn’t really much in what they had read so far that even mentioned the house, so she didn’t really feel any pride. Why Rachel wanted to be known as a Slytherin was also beyond her. It was clear that Slytherins were the bad guys. Shannon swore by Gryffindor, and she was just as fiery as the lead characters. Alex was also supporting Gryffindor, he seemed a little too quiet and easy going to really fit there, but then she remembered the way he had stood up to her the first day she arrived. He was definitely brave.

Shannon was sent to bed at the usual time, but Alex hung around in the living room playing some sort of handheld game while Older Rachel told the time travelers about the shows she had been a part of. He shuffled along to bed just before Alice was due to get home, and when they noticed the time, Rachel and Quinn moved to sit in the window seat so they could watch for Alice’s arrival. They didn’t have to wait long.

They were shoved out of the older women’s way as soon as they announced that Alice’s car had pulled up. They were both peering out the window, not at all trying for subtlety. The two time travelers took their attempts at spying to the front door. There was a panel of glass along the top of the door, and Quinn was almost tall enough to see outside if she stood on her tiptoes. She gave up after a few attempts at jumping up to see through the glass and instead turned to Rachel and picked her up around the waist, ignoring the quiet squeal and the smack she received to the back of her head. She lifted the diva up until her face was high enough to see outside.

Rachel gave herself a little extra lift by digging her foot against Quinn’s hipbone.

“Ow, bitch,” the blonde muttered against the fabric of Rachel’s shirt. “What can you see?”

“They’re coming up the walkway. I don’t think they can see me. He’s holding her hand!” Rachel bounced in excitement and Quinn nearly dropped her. She had to scramble to both stay standing and keep Rachel from falling and splitting her head open. She ended up with one arm wrapped behind Rachel’s knees and her free hand halfway under her skirt.

“Get your hand off my butt!”                       

“Shut up and tell me what’s going on,” Quinn rebutted, ignoring the order completely.

Rachel thought about being snarky and asking how she could do both, but she felt like Quinn might drop her if she didn’t fill her in. “They’re on the porch,” the brunette hissed. “They’re talking; can you hear what they’re saying?”

“No, this door is like two inches thick!”

“Ok, ok, be quiet.” She peered silently over the sill for a moment and then gasped. “He’s moving in. He’s going to kiss her.” She wiggled a little. “Ok, you’re seriously giving me a wedgie now.”

“Shut up and narrate,” Quinn demanded, flushing as she rearranged her hands. She was going to miss having an excuse to grope the Rachel’s ass like that.

“They’re kissing! They’re kissing!” She giggled and bounced again and Quinn snarled at the actions. Rachel sighed above her. “It’s so cute Quinn. I wish you could see it.”

“Well switch places with me.”

Rachel patted her head patronizingly. “Oh Quinn, you’re so funny. I wouldn’t be strong enough to lift you.”

“Yeah right,” Quinn muttered.

“Oh! She’s coming in! She’s coming in! Move away from the door,” Rachel told her franticly, wriggling against her hold.

Quinn tried to back away from the door while still holding Rachel up. She tripped over her own feet and sent them both sprawling with Rachel landing heavily on top of her. Quinn had the air knocked out of her lungs and lay there gasping as the front door opened.

It was pretty obvious what Rachel and Quinn had been up to before Alice walked in, but the girl didn’t seem to care. She just beamed at them and leaned back against the door for a few seconds, taking deep breaths.

Then she squealed. Loudly. While jumping in place and flailing her arms and shaking her head manically. When she stopped after only a few seconds of frantic activity she beamed at them again and ran into the living room, squealing again and setting off a riot of laughter in her mothers.

Quinn groaned and rolled over onto her stomach and then forced herself up on her knees. Rachel was definitely heavier than she looked. All muscle and sharp little elbows.

She was also feeling no pain apparently. She just sat straight up and stared at Quinn for a second, bemused. “I guess it went well then.”

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “Yeah,” she wheezed. “Maybe better than well.”

Rachel stood and brushed invisible dust off of her legs and butt. She noticed Quinn tracking the movement of her hands, and the slight flush on the other girl’s cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. When she offered her hand to Quinn, she seemed to snap out of whatever daze she had been in, and bright hazel eyes quickly moved from their previous target to Rachel’s face. “Come on, let’s go hear about it.”

Any trace of Alice’s remaining bitterness with her mother was apparently forgotten in the wake of her successful date with Seth. She had tackled the older blonde in a full body hug and was chattering happily against her neck about how perfect it was and how much she loved everything. Older Quinn was chuckling and rubbing her daughter’s back, commenting when necessary. Older Rachel was sitting beside them, running her fingers through Alice’s hair and smiling softly. Quinn and Rachel both just peered around the corner unobtrusively for a few minutes and occasionally traded smiles. When Rachel placed her hand on top of Quinn’s on the doorframe, Quinn just turned her hand over and twined their fingers together and smiled.

**QFRB**

_I was withdrawn_  
But never ever after  
Can you really turn me on  
Immersing me in laughter?


	12. Multiply Divide

_Push all the air out of your lungs_  
A year is a lifetime  
When you're young  
And clearly lifetimes will be spent  
Wondering just where our time went

**QFRB**

Rachel came into awareness in that fuzzy space between wakefulness and deep sleep. She was warm and happy, and the pillow under her ear carried a steady beat into her brain that kept her calm and made her feel safe. It smelled good too.

It was only when her pillow shifted that she was forced to wake up a little more and she realized that her pillow was actually Quinn’s chest. Now fully awake, she didn’t remove herself from the situation, but curled closer and relished it. She didn’t know how much longer she would get to enjoy that kind of closeness with Quinn and there was no way she was going to take it for granted.

Even if there was a creeping feeling of dread lurking around her belly.

It was familiar, that feeling. Frightening and close. She can easily remember the way the she felt on the day she arrived in the future. It was the same.

Her grip on Quinn tightened reflexively.

She scooted away a little so that she wasn’t entirely on top of Quinn and shook her a little. Quinn groaned and her brow furrowed in an adorable attempt to stay asleep.

“Quinn?” Rachel tested in a whisper, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. She didn’t want Quinn to think she was being teased. She was just so cute though, with her wild bed-head and blurry eyes and the tiny little squeak she made when she yawned and stretched.

When Quinn went limp again, still on her back, eyes still closed, Rachel thought she hadn’t been heard and was about to repeat herself when Quinn breathed out a quiet “Yeah?”

For a moment Rachel chewed on her bottom lip and just looked at Quinn. “Today’s the day.”

Quinn shifted her left hand over her stomach, rubbing it in absent-minded concentration. Then she turned her head so that her forehead met Rachel’s gently. Rachel’s eyes were too close to focus on so she closed her own and breathed deeply. Rachel watched her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Quinn’s hand clench in the fabric over her belly. “Yeah,” she whispered finally.

Settling in behind the nausea there was a profound sadness. A submissiveness that settled in them and between them like stone. Unmovable. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was removable, neither of them had the energy for such an undertaking.

Quinn thought that must be the ultimate truth of humanity, knowing when to give up. Not like in the movies where the underdog fights back against unwinnable odds and somehow secures a victory. What was the use in fighting when there was nothing that could be done anyway and no one to prove a point to?

Her fist clenched tighter and then released. She reached out for Rachel instead and her hand met silky brown hair. She opened her eyes. “I’m glad all of this happened,” she confessed in an almost light tone. She smiled a little at the way Rachel’s eyes widened. “I don’t entirely . . . well, I don’t understand some of it, and it’s hard for me to accept. But I’ve been happier here than . . . I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, and I guess part of that is because of you.”

“Quinn,” Rachel started, but Quinn shook her head.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Rachel thought of several things she could say to that, but she didn’t use any of them. She just nodded and smiled and leaned in to deposit a chaste peck on Quinn’s perfect lips.

“We should get up.”

Quinn pouted dramatically and tossed her head around. Then she abruptly flipped onto her stomach and wrapped her arms around her head. “No.”

It took Rachel a few seconds to realize that Quinn was being playful. She smiled. Playful Quinn was fun. “Why not?”

“I’m tired of running.” Quinn’s proclamation was muffled by the pillow under her face, but Rachel still thought she could hear something other than the obvious lurking in the tone. Her smile grew. Rachel rolled on top of Quinn and laid her head in the middle of Quinn’s back, right between her shoulder blades.

“Finally.”

**QFRB**

Somehow both Rachel and Quinn managed to fall asleep once again, despite the occasional resurgence of nausea and an unusual worry that pricked at their brains.

They were woken by a knock at the door, which had become pretty standard over the last few days. But when Quinn cracked one eye open, it was to find that the room was lit much brighter than it usually was when Older Quinn would come knocking.

“Come in,” Quinn called as she sat up, carefully moving Rachel off her chest.

The door was nudged open and Older Rachel entered, a stack of clothes in one hand, all folded neatly. “I have your clothes for you,” Older Rachel told them without even batting an eye at their positioning on the bed. One thing both Young Quinn and Rachel appreciated was that Older Rachel didn’t tease them as mercilessly as Older Quinn did. “They’re washed and ready, exactly as they came.” She placed them on the desk.

“So it is today,” Young Rachel said more to herself than the others.

Older Rachel smiled sadly at them. “Yes.” She sighed. “Well, if you want breakfast, it’s nearly ready. Don’t feel like you have to come down though, if you aren’t hungry.”

Young Rachel waited until her older self had disappeared back into the hallway before she pulled Quinn back down. Quinn smiled shyly at Rachel’s pouting face. “I don’t want to go out there,” Rachel whispered like she was sharing a secret. “I want to stay here like this and wallow in my misery and just…feel you and see you like this for a few more hours.” Quinn opened her mouth to speak and was halted by fingers at her lips. “I’m sad that I won’t even be able to miss you.”

The tightness that had already been pressing in Quinn’s chest rose up into her throat and she felt like she was actually choking. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She already felt like crap, she didn’t want to cry anymore.

“We might not miss each other, but we don’t know if the others will miss us. We really shouldn’t deprive your future children of your greatness if we don’t have to.”

Rachel smiled sadly. “You make a valid point.”

“I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

Twenty minutes later, Rachel and Quinn entered the kitchen to find that everyone was already seated except for Older Rachel and Older Quinn, the later wasn’t yet present and the former was at the kitchen counter preparing her coffee. Food was already on the table and disappearing rapidly into Alex, and not so rapidly into Shannon and Alice.

As Quinn and Rachel sat down, Older Quinn arrived and went straight to Older Rachel. She wrapped her arms around her wife, ducking her chin down on Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel leaned back in the embrace briefly and then went back to stirring her coffee. As soon as she removed the spoon and picked the mug up to take her first sip, Quinn grabbed her wrist and directed the cup up to her mouth instead.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Older Rachel warned playfully, but Quinn already had the lip of the mug in her mouth.

As soon as she had a taste of what was in the mug, Quinn’s face scrunched up in disgust. She held Rachel’s wrist in place and tried to spit the coffee back in the mug, it mostly ended up dribbling out of her mouth.

“Oh God, that was nasty.” Older Quinn wiped her chin.

Older Rachel chuckled and brought the mug to her lips instead. “That’s what you get.” She took a long sip and hummed happily. “I think it’s delicious.”

“Yeah well, we all know you’re freaky.” Quinn made another disgusted face. “There’s an aftertaste. I think I’m going to cry.”

“Stop being a baby.” Rachel shook Quinn off her back and moved to sit at her spot at the table. “You should have learned by now not to put strange things in your mouth.”

Older Quinn raised one eyebrow as she watched her wife retreat.

 “Hmm, yeah, I’ll have to remember that for next time we do what we did last night.”

Older Rachel looked over her shoulder. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I shall endeavor.” Quinn poured her own coffee and joined everyone at the table. “You’re all very quiet this morning.”

“Tired,” Alice muttered.

“Tired,” Shay agreed.

Alex said something unintelligible around a mouthful of food.

When Young Quinn and Rachel didn’t offer their own explanations right away two expectant pairs of eyes turned to them.

Quinn, picking at the eggs she had scooped onto her plate, looked up through her eyelashes. “I don’t feel good.”

Rachel nodded in agreement.

After that, it was nearly silent, only Older Quinn and Rachel talked, and just about the plan for the day. Alice ate very lightly and then disappeared upstairs again before everyone else was finished, citing the need to prepare for her dance class, leaving Alex and Shannon to clean up.

For Rachel it felt like time and awareness was a sieve. One minute she was lucid and aware of every detail, like the taste of her orange juice and the comforting contact of Quinn’s forearm against hers, and then the next she realized she was no longer at the table and was instead washing dishes beside an irritable Alex.

It was the same for Quinn and so she wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but she ended up in Alex’s messy room playing video games with him. He reluctantly let her try her luck after a few minutes of watching him shoot aliens. Unfortunately, just watching wasn’t enough to actually make her good at the game. She had played Super Mario Brothers before, Zelda and Pokemon too, but that had been years ago, when she was Alex’s age, and none of those titles really prepared her for mowing down monsters with a shotgun.

Every time she would die, usually horrifically in fire, Alex would look at her with a very familiar glare. She could remember practicing it in the mirror when she was his age. She was just starting to get really good at avoiding falling into pits of lava and acid when Alex insisted she hand the controls over to him.

“The next part is really tough. You’ve already messed up my perfect record; I don’t want you dying during a big mission too.”

“It’s not like I’ve ever done this before or anything. I think I’m doing pretty good,” Quinn huffed.

Alex snorted. “If you were five, maybe.”

Quinn passed over the controller. “I’m going to go find Rachel.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go make out. Whatever.”

Rolling her eyes, Quinn stood and ruffled Alex’s hair on her way out.

She decided to look downstairs first, but the whole of the first floor appeared to be deserted. She looked out into the backyard, found nothing, and then headed for the stairs, slightly irritated with herself for not checking up there first since she had already been there.

“Quinn, just the girl I was looking for. Will you go get Rachel and meet me up at my studio?”

Quinn jerked to a stop and looked back to see her older self leaning out of Older Rachel’s office, hair wild and glasses slipping down her nose. “Uh…sure.”

“Great, thanks.” With that, Older Quinn disappeared back around the corner, and to Young Quinn’s embarrassment, a short burst of giggles floated out of the room not long after. She scurried away quickly.

Quinn found Rachel in Shay’s room, up to her eyeballs in dolls and stuffed animals, literally. Shay’s largest dollhouse, the one Quinn had so amazed by, was almost as tall as Rachel. Quinn stood in the doorway and just watched for a moment. Shay was dictating something to Rachel and moving a few of her dolls around the house. Quinn didn’t understand why there were so many in the house in the first place unless Shannon was trying to pull off a party scene, she could see that there was a Ken doll and two Barbie’s in one of the bed rooms.

“Hey, Barbie?” Quinn called, barely remembering to use Rachel’s fake name. Rachel looked up in surprise. “Quinn wants to talk to us for a minute.”

“Oh, ok. I’ll be back later Shay.” Rachel handed over the dolls she was holding to the pouting young girl. Once they were in the hallway Rachel whispered, “You just now thought of saving me? I’ve been in there for an hour.”

Quinn smothered a giggle at Rachel’s displeased expression. “Sorry. Older Quinn really does want to talk to us though.”

Rachel huffed. “It’s so wonderful that you care about my wellbeing so much that you didn’t even come up with a plan yourself, you just waited for someone else to need me first.”

“Are we fighting?” Quinn asked, grinning.

Rachel marched forward, scowling, and Quinn laughed quietly behind her. By the time Quinn caught up with Rachel, she was standing in front of Older Quinn’s door, hand raised to knock. She hesitated briefly and then brought her fist down on the wood twice in quick succession. They only had to wait a second for a response.

“Come in, come in,” Older Quinn’s muffled voice called out distractedly.

Rachel cast a slightly nervous glance back at Quinn and then turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The studio was a bedroom that had been converted into an office. The floors were hardwood and the walls were bare white. The normal lights had been removed and replaced with bright florescent panels. All the lights were down though; the late morning sun lit the room nicely on its own.

Most of the room was empty; there were only three large drafting tables along one wall, a tall bookcase on another with a small filing cabinet beside it, and an empty easel in the middle sitting on top of a paint splattered tarp. Under the drafting tables there were several rolling carts with clear drawers that appeared to hold art supplies. All three of the tables had piles of colored folders stacked along the edges in messy piles.

Older Quinn was at the middle table, and she waved them over when she saw them. “Close the door behind you.”

“Why is this room always closed off to everyone else?” Young Quinn asked as she complied.

“I don’t want any of the kids getting in my stuff and moving it around. Shannon is really the only one I still have to worry about. I know it looks messy, but there is a method. Every color stands for a certain thing; they’re in various orders, depending on which table they’re at. It’s all very organized and neat and I don’t want someone coming in shifting stuff around and messing up my schedule because of it.” She waved her hands around her head as if batting away a fly. “I brought you in for something else.” She looked around for a second, trying to gather her thoughts. She snapped her fingers a few times absent-mindedly. “Oh! Right. I wanted to do something to commemorate your visit,” Older Quinn explained as she shifted various supplies out of her way and pulled a purple folder out of the pile on the table in front of her, “so I sketched this up.” She flipped the folder open and drew out a single sheet of paper and laid it in front of them. “What do you think?”

The sketch was of two figures sitting on a set of stairs, their knees and foreheads were touching, and their faces were obscured by their hair. The sketch wasn’t colored, so the only way to distinguish between the two figures was by the length of their hair. The stairs led up behind the figures to the top of a rabbit hole where a stylized bunny was peeking out.

“I’m thinking,” Older Quinn continued while they looked over the picture, “that the top part, with the rabbit, will be at the bottom of my back and the stairs will curve around over my hip so this part,” she circled the two girls with her finger, “will be on my thigh.”

“It looks really good. I didn’t know you were such a good artist Quinn,” Rachel commented, nudging the younger Quinn with her hip. “I’ve only ever seen your doodles.”

Quinn winced. She knew Rachel had seen more than the little hearts and flowers she drew in the margins of her notes, but for some reason she didn’t bring it up. Not really desiring a fight when she was already feeling sick to her stomach, Quinn decided to follow Rachel’s lead. “It was always just a hobby. I guess something changes later.”

Older Quinn shrugged and put the drawing away. “When I was recovering there would be times when I got too stressed or especially needed a fix. I’d get jittery and irritable, and I had to find something to distract me until I could center myself again. Kenny had left one of her note books out one day and I just started drawing. I drew two pages full of owls and it made me feel better, so I kept it up.”

“So what was the rabbit for? Another Alice in Wonderland thing?” Rachel asked.

Older Quinn shrugged. “Yeah, it’s also for Shannon. She’s the grounded one out of all of us, very stable. A little self-absorbed maybe, but she takes after her mother.” She smirked playfully at Rachel.

“I hate you both.”

**QFRB**

After lunch, Older Rachel bundled Shannon up and took her to one of her friend’s houses. Shannon was excited about the chance to spend time with her friend, which meant that she was distracted enough to not hear Older Quinn tell Alex and Alice that they just didn’t want her asking awkward questions about why Young Rachel and Quinn just suddenly disappeared.

When it was mentioned that “Charlie and Barbie” would probably have to go home before Shannon returned, the little girl pulled them both into fierce hugs.

“I really liked meeting you,” she confessed. “Thanks for playing with me. Alice and Alex won’t anymore.”

Quinn dropped to her knees and hugged Shannon tighter. “I loved playing with you. I know what it’s like to be the youngest. I’m glad we could have fun.”

Shannon smiled softly at her. “You don’t look so sad anymore.”

Quinn remembered the way Shannon had offered to hug her the first day she and Rachel arrived. It almost felt like a life time had passed since then. “I’m not.”

“Good.” Shannon leaned down and kissed her cheek.

Rachel received a similar treatment and then Shannon was lead out by Older Rachel.

Quinn waved when Shannon looked back at them and then turned and headed for the back yard. She needed some air. Something to shock her system. She felt sluggish, dizzy, and hot, especially around her ears.

She exited on to the porch and found that she wasn’t alone. Older Quinn was sitting on one of the lounge chairs, wrapped up in several layers and holding a lit cigarette between the fingers of her right hand. A thin stream of smoke curled into the icy air and a much less delicate looking plume exited Older Quinn’s mouth when she exhaled.

“I didn’t know we smoked,” Quinn said to announce her presence.

“Mm, the one addiction I never completely kicked. I stopped for a while when Rach and I were having the kids, but I picked it back up a few years ago.”

“I can’t imagine Rachel approves.” Quinn sat down on the chair closet to Older Quinn.

The older blonde arched an eyebrow and shot Quinn a sly glance. “She doesn’t appreciate the smell, but she thinks it’s sexy. Don’t let her little act fool you, she does like to follow the rules, but that doesn’t mean she’s innocent. She enjoys that I’m a total badass.”

“Right, yeah, badass is honestly how I would describe myself.”

“Ok, fine. How about Lady Killer.” Older Quinn waggled her eyebrows. “That one is totally true. I still have girls throwing themselves at me.”

Quinn hid her face in her hands briefly. She tried not to smile. She didn’t want to encourage herself. “You’re such a perv.”

“I can’t help it. All the ladies want on my dick.” Older Quinn shrugged and then stubbed out her cigarette. “Isn’t that right, Rachel?”

“No comment.”

Quinn’s head whipped around in surprise. She hadn’t heard the door open.

“Well,” Older Quinn stood and stretched, “I’m going to leave you to it. Got some work to do on that concept. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Which pretty much leaves us open to do anything, right?” Rachel queried.

“No meth,” Older Quinn ordered playfully with an authoritative finger point. “But otherwise, go for it.”

Rachel joined Quinn on her lounge chair and curled up against her, pulling Quinn down so they were facing each other. “I got lonely,” she explained before Quinn could ask. She just nodded and wrapped an arm around Rachel’s waist to share her warmth. They didn’t speak further, just listened to the sound of falling snow.

Once it was just too cold to stay out any longer, even with being as close to each other as possible without taking their clothes off, Rachel insisted that they go back inside. Quinn finally agreed when she realized her fingers were so numb that she didn’t even know where they were for a few seconds.

Walking back into the warm house was shocking and a little painful. The sounds of Alice’s bright laughter could be heard from the sitting room, along with the television. Once they both had feeling in their feet again, Quinn and Rachel followed the sound.

“What are you watching?” Rachel asked, leading Quinn into the sitting room by her wrist.

“This old show called Drama. It’s pretty good. My moms really liked it when they were in college,” Alex said, glancing back at them briefly. Alice shushed him, her gaze locked on the television screen. “Shut up, you’ve seen this episode a dozen times.”

Alice punched his shoulder. “Exactly and my favorite part is coming up. Stop talking.”

Silence fell over them as the characters on screen carried on in their bizarre adventure. “What is this show even about?” Quinn demanded as soon as Alice stopped laughing entirely too loudly.

Alex shrugged. “Initially it was about this rag-tag bunch of kids that wanted a Drama club and their completely unmotivated teacher, but I’m not really sure anymore. I think the writers lost sight of it’s original direction somewhere in the middle of the second season.”

Rachel nodded sagely. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Shut up,” Alice ordered. “This show is amazing.”

“And yet she doesn’t like Skins,” Older Quinn said to announce her presence. She threw herself over the back of the couch and lay there in an undignified sprawl like she had been there the whole time.

Alice rolled her eyes and shushed everyone again.

Rachel tried to concentrate on the television show, but she was having trouble focusing on any one thing. Her body was thrumming with an almost electric pulse. She could feel her heartbeat in the tips of her fingers. She thought she might even be able to hear it.

Something shifted in the air and the tension ratcheted up several notches. Rachel suddenly found it a little harder to breathe. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she moved her hand around blindly in search of Quinn’s and when she found it, she entwined their fingers and held on tight. Quinn seized Rachel’s hand just as tightly and it was surprisingly easier to breathe because of it.

There was something freeing about the fact that Quinn could just hold Rachel’s hand and be afraid, and not be judged for it, or questioned endlessly, because Rachel understood in a way that no one else in that house could. They were the only ones truly experiencing something, and everyone around them was reacting accordingly to the pressure that floated around them like a dark cloud.

Everyone was anxious, expectant. Alice had turned the sound on the television down, but she and Alex continued to watch. At least, they were facing the screen and not talking, but when Quinn shifted next to Rachel, she caught a glimpse of Alice’s unfocused eyes. Alex was hunched forward, his shoulders rolled up close to his ears, and his arms locked tight around his legs.

“It’s happening,” Rachel said suddenly, standing on reflex. Before the words had even finished leaving her mouth Quinn felt the same pain licking at her fingers, nose, ears, toes, and then moving up along her extremities faster than a real fire could spread.

Rachel felt like her head was about to split open               right down the center. She put pressure on her temples but the pain didn’t ease. Everything hurt, even her eyes burned in their sockets.

Quinn was experienced something similar, but with the added displeasure of commentary. Rachel’s head hurt too much for her to have much of a thought beyond “ow.” But Quinn was used to pain, and it wasn’t as bad as it had been when they had traveled the first time.

 _It’s over. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over._ Quinn wondered why she felt like she would rather die than go back to what was before. She could barely remember it. Just five days had passed and it felt like a life time. She could feel her comfort and happiness being stripped away like skin from an onion.

“Rachel,” she managed through clenched teeth.

Rachel threw herself across the small space that separated them and into the blonde’s arms with no further prompting. She kept moving until she was flush against her, as much of her body touching Quinn as possible, and it still wasn’t enough. She wanted to climb inside her and make them one person.

The fire was intensifying. Any second now they were going to lose all of the progress and trust and foundation they had built. It was going to be torn away and everything would be exactly as it had been before. They wouldn’t even be able to miss it.

Rachel cried out when the pain just under her skin grew more unbearable. She felt Quinn’s lips on her face, first on her cheeks and then her chin and forehead, like a hot brand. She wished she _had_ been branded, she wished her skin would carry black marks where Quinn’s lips had touched; if only so she could have something of this left.

It was no good, she knew. So she ducked her head against Quinn’s neck and just held on for dear life, and Quinn held her back with a force that nearly hurt.

It was good pain that tried to edge out the burning. It didn’t quite manage.

And then it got worse.

**QFRB**

_Unfold the maps up in my head_  
To all the islands we haven't found yet   
Make up for my unsteadiness   
You take the wheel, I'll get the mast  
.  
Is this really my prime?  
Mundane or divine  
When you're how I solve for "X"   
My calculations do align.


	13. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so it ends

_Heart beats fast_  
Colors and promises  
How to be brave  
How can I love when I'm afraid  
To fall  
But watching you stand alone  
All of my doubt  
Suddenly goes away somehow

**2040**

They were there, and then they weren’t.

Young Quinn and Rachel had disappeared like a bubble popping, but soundless and without so much as a shift in the air, and in their wake they left the stillness and quiet.

Alex was the first to break the silence. He pulled away from the wall he had held up for the last ten minutes, arms still crossed over his chest. “I have homework to finish,” he muttered as he ducked past his mothers, head hanging so his hair fell over his eyes.

Quinn reached out to tug at a lock gently as he walked by, but she didn’t stop him.

Alice sighed beside her mothers. “And just like that’s it’s over.”

Rachel’s shoulders drooped. “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna miss ‘em.”

“We’re standing right here.”

“It’s not really the same.” She smiled sadly. “You used to be . . . I don’t know. You’re both moms,” she wrinkled her nose distastefully. “They weren’t. It just gave out interactions a different flavor.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and purposefully messed up Alice’s hair. “You’re a weird little shit.”

Alice batted Quinn’s hands away and then turned to wrap her arms around her waist. She laid her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Birdy.” Quinn laughed when Alice tried to bite her. “Speaking of birdies, a little one told me that you wanted to go on the school trip to Paris during Spring Break. Apparently you’ve talked about it several times without me finding out.” Alice stiffened in her arms and Quinn knew that what she was about to do was cruel. “I’m sorry, but we’re not going to let you go for Spring Break.” Alice’s shoulder’s slumped under Quinn’s arm and she turned her face further against Quinn’s neck so her eyes weren’t visible. Quinn glanced over at Rachel and caught her rolling her eyes.

She mouthed, “move it along.”

Quinn took a deep breath and finger combed Alice’s hair. She was very proud of her middle child for not following in Carmen’s stead and storming away petulantly. “Because your mother is taking you during summer for your graduation present.”

It took a few seconds for Quinn’s words to register, but when they did Alice jerked like she’d been electrocuted. She pulled away to arm’s length and stared wide-eyed at her mother. She glanced at Rachel quickly and then back to Quinn. “Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

Alice opened her mouth several times to say something, only succeeding in producing a squeak once. She threw herself at Quinn with an ecstatic laugh.

Quinn chuckled. “Are you alright?”

“I’m gonna’ pee!”

Rachel laughed loudly. “Well hold on, there’s more.” Alice couldn’t even say anything; she just turned her wide eyes to Rachel and held on to Quinn for dear life. “Tell her what she’s won, Champ.”

“A brand new car!” Quinn joked, pitching her voice to sound like a television announcer.

“Really?”

“No.” Quinn swatted Alice’s butt. “Don’t be a punk. We’ve talked to Santana and Brittany, and if you’d like, they’ve agreed to let Nicole go along with you.”

“Are you serious?” Alice repeated, this time in a much shriller tone.

“Yes.”

“I don’t even…I…what are words?”

Rachel and Quinn laughed.

“I have to go tell Nic. I can tell her right?”

Quinn nodded. Alice squealed happily, jumping in place for a few seconds. She hugged Quinn tightly again, kissing her on the cheek before tearing away to do the same to Rachel. With another joyful squeal she turned and fled from the room, her mothers watching her go with affectionate gazes.

 

“I’m sad to see them go, now that we know what happens,” Rachel said once Alice had disappeared from sight.

Quinn threw an arm over Rachel’s shoulders and tugged her close. She thought absently, as she did every time she pulled that move off, that it was amazing how well Rachel fit against her. “I’m not.” She shrugged when Rachel shot her an incredulous look. “I think it all turned out just fine.”

At that, Rachel turned fully in to Quinn’s embrace and wrapped her own arms around her wife’s waist. “That, I’ll agree with.”

.

 _I have died everyday_  
waiting for you  
Darlin' don't be afraid  
I have loved you for a  
Thousand years  
I'll love you for a  
Thousand more

**2012**

Quinn was spinning, physically and mentally. She couldn’t control her arms, her legs, anything. She was moving too fast and in too much pain to focus on anything outside of herself. The pain that erupted just under her skin was like a fire tearing through her nerves.

She felt like her feet weren’t even touching the ground.

And then they were, and she had control again, but not enough to stop the trajectory she was already on.

She collided with another body, though she couldn’t see who, and her arms snapped around them on instinct when they began to fall. But then she was falling too. Her vision cleared just enough that she could see brown hair and tile rushing up to meet her face. She braced herself for the fall and turned her head toward the other person and her nose was tickled by soft hair.

They hit the ground hard. Quinn heard other bodies hit the ground, shouts and cries of pain, and very close to her ear the sound of something heavy and hard striking the ground. She knew she was on top of a girl, smaller than she was, Rachel? Santana?

_Her head must have hit the floor._

For a few long torturous seconds it hurt too much to move, but just as suddenly as the pain came, it left, with just tingles trailing down her limbs and ribs and the tip of her nose.

Quinn rolled off of the body under her, whom she could now identify as Rachel, and looked around. They were all on the ground, except for Artie, sprawled out in various undignified ways.

Mr. Shuester stood in the middle of them, hands on his hips and a disapproving look on his face. “I really don’t know what’s gotten in to you guys today.” He shook his head unhappily. “Maybe I’ve been working you too hard.” He looked at his watch. “Let’s just stop early today, but you all better come in tomorrow prepared to work. Maybe go to bed earlier or something tonight. Get some rest.”

There were various murmurs of agreement around the room as those on the floor started to stand, wobbling like newborn deer. Rachel tried as well, and for some reason, Quinn automatically reached out a hand to steady her. It felt natural for some reason to take hold of Rachel’s smaller hand in her own. The warmth and smoothness of her skin was comforting and welcome.

When Quinn realized what she was doing, she snatched her hand away as if the fire had come back. By that point Rachel was on her feet, though still not entirely steady. She looked pale. As Quinn watched her, she dazedly brought a hand up to the back of her head.

“Ow.”

“Rachel!” Finn had lumbered to his feet some distance away and was rapidly approaching, his face arranged in what could be called a worried expression. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. I hit my head, but I don’t appear to be suffering anything other than a headache.”

“Well that’s good. I wonder what all of that was. You felt it right?”

“Yes.” Rachel looked around, and then remembering that she had been helped up, looked down at Quinn, still sitting on the floor and watching her conversation with Finn. “Oh, Quinn! Here let me help you.” She reached out a hand but Quinn batted it away impatiently.

“I can get up by myself, thanks.” For some reason, even though Rachel was quite used to Quinn’s acidic attitude, her tone stung more than usual. It sunk deep in her heart and suffered there.

“Come on, Rach. Quinn’s fine.” Rachel allowed Finn to pull her away as Quinn stood up. They didn’t leave right away, Puck and Artie both stopped Finn to talk to him on their way out. While Finn talked with his friends, his large hand heavy around hers, she looked back at Quinn.

Quinn had been accosted similarly by Santana and Brittany, though out of the three of them only Brittany seemed interested in talking. Quinn looked away from her friend’s bright blue eyes, unconsciously seeking something else out.

Their eyes met, and Quinn had a strange feeling that she was staring across time and space instead of a quickly emptying choir room.

And then their moment was over with the quick tug of Finn’s hand at Rachel’s wrist. She turned to him with a smile, wide and dazzling, and for the first time in a long time Quinn felt her chest tighten painfully.

.

 _Time stands still_  
beauty in all she is  
I will be brave  
I will not let anything   
Take away  
What's standing in front of me  
Every breath,   
Every hour has come to this

.

_And I’ll be sitting on your back porch, trying to figure out who you are, made in a factory of simple parts._


End file.
